


Your Prison Is Walking Through This World All Alone

by bagheerita



Series: Collected Tales of the OOOT-verse [1]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, X-Men - All Media Types
Genre: Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Canon Divergence, Comic Book Science, Condoms, F/F, F/M, Fisting, Language, M/M, Rimming, Vaginal Sex, alcohol use, gender pronouns refer to gender, multiple instances of non-graphic references to past torture and brainwashing, my MCU is massively more understanding than the real world, non-graphic references to past instances of forced violence (NCS and murder), original characters in supporting roles - Freeform, please forgive me I know nothing about northern Africa, references to canon shitty parenting, selective narrator, should I even tag for f/f relationship is not explicit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-23
Updated: 2017-09-13
Packaged: 2018-11-18 00:57:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 13
Words: 144,144
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11280399
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bagheerita/pseuds/bagheerita
Summary: When Tony takes the unconventional approach of throwing one of their enemies at another enemy to buy them some time in the heat of battle, Fury and the other Avengers have mixed reactions. Meanwhile, Steve runs into an old friend, Darcy makes some new friends, Loki applies himself to arranging everything to his liking, Tony thinks he understands what he's getting into, and there are aliens. *Other* aliens.(This is OOOT's backstory for "Delta-universe." It is mostly MCU based but diverges from canon after the climax of Avengers, and I have added in a couple X-Men characters while intermingling bits of backstory from the movies and the comics rather haphazardly. Have fun.)





	1. Your Prison Is Walking Through This World All Alone

**Author's Note:**

> Each chapter is told through the PoV of one of five characters, and there are different... "levels" to the story.  
> Tony is the main narrative character and every significant plot development for this story happens in his chapters, which are #1, 2, 6, 8, 9, & 10.  
> The Bucky/Steve chapters are #3, 7, and 11. These include plot elements that are relevant to these characters but not necessarily to the overall story, though chapter 7 is probably the most important.  
> The Darcy narrated chapters (#4 & 12) are pure character indulgence, and can theoretically be skipped.  
> The single Loki chapter (#5) is mostly character development, but does include important plot points for OOOT.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dark Phoenix crashes an Asgardian send off, which leads to conflict between Tony and SHIELD.

**Location:** Universe YOSLY, Designation: Delta  
New York City, Stark Tower  
_Tony's penthouse_  
_7 years pre-anomaly_  
_(34 hours after Loki's failed invasion)_

"Is there anything you'd like to add, Mister Stark?"

"No, Nick, I think that covers it. Don't let the door hit you on the way out."

Tony's sitting at the bar and he raises his eyes from his left hand long enough to meet Fury's gaze. Fury is unreadable, his face a mask more emotionless than the faceplate of Tony's suit. The Iron Man suit lies in battered pieces around Tony because he's too tired to remember where his workshop is. The chest piece was cut across the middle and the bottom section crumbled into shards when he tried to wrench it off; he's currently seated on the barstool trying to more delicately coax the severely dented left gauntlet into releasing his hand. He hasn't really slept in something close to eighty hours. In those hours he has fought two rampaging supervillains, flown into space with a nuclear weapon, and seen comrades die right in front of him. The city has been wounded such that it will take years to recover. Tony's penthouse, his refuge from all of this, is in ruins, the rest of his tower little better. His ribs are severely bruised and he's pretty sure his left ankle is broken. He's so tired he can't process the pain and he thinks he might sleep right here on the floor, now, and figure out the gauntlet later. Or maybe he'll just give in and tear it off in pieces.

"So let's just go over it all again."

Tony blinks. "Why? You have the reports. I'm sure Agent Romanov gave a better one than I did. Hell, Captain America was there. Why are you even asking anyone else what happened? If Rogers didn't see it, it doesn't matter." He itches all over and that suddenly takes priority over the gauntlet. He wonders if he can take a shower without falling asleep and drowning himself. "JARVIS wouldn't let it happen," he murmurs. Satisfied, he begins to stand, ready to limp to his shower. Assuming it works. He's about to ask JARVIS about that when Fury slams a hand down on the bar in front of him.

Tony jumps, his left hand coming up automatically, and it is only with a great deal of focusing that he refrains from repulsor-blasting Nick Fury into oblivion. He's so busy trying to remember why he's not supposed to be blasting this asshole that he almost misses what Fury is saying.

"Dammit, Stark! I'm just trying to understand why the hero who saved New York from both Loki and an atomic bomb yesterday, today decided that this world needed a god of mischief hanging around for a while longer!"

Tony closes his eyes and sinks down onto the stool. He can still smell burning flesh. "She was killing people. I figured if Loki couldn't stop her, then at least she'd be killing him instead of..." His throat is so dry. "Instead of the rest of us. Instead of Clint." The equations make sense. Why can't Fury see that? Maybe Fury needs to get some sleep. Tony's ankle throbs.

Fury is quiet for a moment and Tony sits there with his eyes closed. They don't want to open and he leans over, pillowing his head on his arm.

'He was a prisoner." Fury's voice is a growl. "He killed people. People you cared about. We had him, and we were going to get rid of the problem."

"He was going to die the same as the rest of us," Tony mumbles. His eyelids are too heavy to open but it doesn't stop him from seeing the day's events play out against the backs of them.

The Avengers were in Central Park for what should have been a nice easy party, sending Thor and Loki back to Asgard. But the ground rumbled with a strange power that made all of them look up, and Dark Phoenix tore into the park- unstoppable, and boy, both Thor and Hulk tried. Luckily the Avengers are all paranoid bastards; Tony's suitcase was in the trunk of his car not ten feet away, with Hawkeye's quiver and Widow's Bite. The X-Men had been only moments ahead of Dark Phoenix, trying to clear her path of innocents as they brought warning to the gathered Avengers. They'd have done better to clear her path of themselves. Cyclops and Storm were capable leaders, but the Phoenix Force, as they explained later, wore the face of someone dear to them. They couldn't quite bring themselves to strike a killing blow, assuming such a thing could even have been accomplished. Dark Phoenix toyed with them all, tossing aside those who amused her and decimating those who did not. She tore through Colossus like tissue paper; Tony swears that even though the faceplate was down already, he can still now feel the spray of liquid that hit his face when she reduced Iceman to atoms.

At the moment in the battle when Tony knew they were going to lose, he looked up and saw Loki. The god was tearing at his bonds with desperation. Tony couldn't really say why he did what he did. That might be why Fury won't leave him alone. But just then he had enough energy left for a quick flight, and it brought him eye to eye with Loki.

Loki glared at him. His eyes were bloodshot and crazed, and Tony thought that even though the air was burning he was cold. _Cold in the caves under the rocks and the sand, the burning sand, and I'm drowning... I've been here before_. He grasped the metal gag that framed the god's jaw and cut through it with a repulsor blast, tearing it away. Loki gaped at him as Tony repeated the process on the cuffs around his arms. They stood, looking at each other for a moment. Then Loki hit him with a scythe of magic that left a cut on the armor from shoulder to hip and sent Tony flying, spinning end over end.

Tony managed to gain some purchase and scramble to his feet with a curse. He looked up in time to see Loki snatch the Tesseract from the case Bruce had placed it in, where it lay forgotten on the ground, and hold the cube in his bare hands. In the light from it, his pale skin was shaded in blues. He crushed the cube between his hands to seize the heart of it in his fingers. When he opened his eyes they were solid blue, Tesseract energy leaking out of them and leaving trails down his face. He flung one arm out, gesturing to the Phoenix.

One second, Dark Phoenix was standing above Hawkeye. Hawkeye was crouched protectively over a momentarily stunned Thor, and he released an arrow that hit Dark Phoenix right in the eye. She laughed, and the next moment she was gone, vanished entirely, leaving only a momentary void of darkness broken by distant stars.

Reality seemed to take a moment to breathe, before it rushed back in on them. Clint let out a soft whoop, but there wasn't really time or inclination for celebrating. The Avengers were exhausted; the X-Men, shell-shocked and heart-sore. Tony doesn't realize until later that Loki had disappeared at the same moment as the Phoenix.

 

Fury huffs out a deep breath. It's a rare show of exasperation and Tony hopes he'll just leave. "You are suspended from all Avengers activity," Fury says, "until we can determine whether or not you have been compromised by contact with Loki. SHIELD will be confiscating your armor."

Tony jerks himself awake. "Like hell," he snarls. "JARVIS, all SHIELD personnel are banned from the building as of this moment."

"Understood, sir." JARVIS' voice is cool and unruffled. It doesn't make sense, because artificial voices don't get ruffled anyway, but Tony finds that comforting.

Tony pushes himself to his feet. His ankle barely holds him. "Get out, Fury, and do it before I drag your ass to court and seize my patents."

Fury goes. Or at least Tony thinks he does. He blinks, and when he opens his eyes Fury is gone. He closes his eyes again.

 

The sun is shining brightly when he wakes, and Tony lies still for a moment, basking in the feeling of having just woken up from a good, long sleep. He's lying on his bed in his room in the penthouse. The wall that should separate his room from the living area is only half standing so he didn't dream the past few days, but he was pretty sure he fell asleep on the floor next to the bar. He's also somehow divested himself of the dented gauntlet and apparently his ankle wasn't broken after all, because, while it's still sore with the rest of him, it doesn't feel that bad and it holds his weight. He stands and slowly makes his way into the living area.

It's a disaster area only highlighted by the late morning sunlight. Tony can't believe anyone let him come back here last night- or whenever it was that he fell asleep- but then he remembers that Pepper is not here to remind him when he's about to cause himself bodily harm because she's in DC running the company.

"JARVIS," he says, voice hoarse. "The suit?" Because it's gone from the floor where he left it.

"Dummy and You gathered it into your workshop, sir. All pieces have been accounted for and level 7 security engaged."

Tony nods. He steps forward and sees that he has a visitor.

Sleeping on the couch in the middle of the ruins of the living area is Clint Barton. He's curled up so tightly that Tony thinks he can't actually be asleep, but he doesn't respond as Tony walks over to him. Tony frowns. "JARVIS, did I or did I not say no SHIELD people allowed in the Tower?" he asks loudly.

"Clint Barton is not in the employ of SHIELD," is JARVIS' smooth reply.

Clint wakes and blinks up at him warily. He's frowning so severely the expression looks like it's been permanently etched onto his features and Tony thinks that if looks could kill, the one Clint is shooting him would accomplish what many other people have failed to do. Tony is abruptly tired again. "Great, I've been awake for all of five minutes. Come on Barton." He turns to the stairs and Clint follows him.

Once they get down to the main levels the building is surprisingly alive with people. They smile and applaud as Tony and Clint pass by, but no one tries to stop them. Tony's glad about that because breakfast is indeed being cooked, down several floors, right where he thought it would be, and he's starving. A young woman ushers him and Clint into a private room and immediately brings them coffee and hot towels. Breakfast passes mostly in silence, Tony addressing a few pressing issues via the Starkpad the waitress left, such as sending a construction team to evaluate the penthouse.

But after they've eaten, Tony turns to Clint. "What are you doing here?"

"I stood up for you," Clint says. Tony chokes on his coffee in surprise, because honestly that was not at all what he expected. "I told Fury you were right. Phoenix was going to toast our asses, and the rest of the city, and maybe not stop there. Loki..." There's a growl in Clint's voice. "Throwing him at Phoenix was the right move. He could have held his own against her, distracted her long enough to give us a chance. Hell, with the Tesseract, I would have put odds on him to stop her, and he did. I don't have to fucking _like_ it to know how it works."

It's not hard to guess what happened next. The only question Tony has is, "And the others?"

Clint shrugs. "Tasha won't compromise her position with SHIELD unless it becomes necessary. The last I saw Rogers was still trying to talk Fury down from throwing my ass in jail. I haven't seen Banner or Thor."

The silence rises again. Tony can't decide if it's comfortable, uncomfortable, or just tired.

He stands. "Come on Barton," he says again, and Clint follows him without a word.

There are plenty of other rooms at the Tower, in areas that have not been demolished by grudge matches between rage monsters and gods, and Tony has JARVIS set him and Clint up with a couple. He takes a long shower and falls asleep.

 

It's late in the afternoon when Tony wakes again. He's pretty sure it's actually the next day.

"Sir," JARVIS alerts him. "Doctor Banner asked to be notified when you awoke. I did inform him that all SHIELD personnel are banned from Stark Tower premises, and Doctor Banner informed me that he is not, and does not intend to ever be, employed by SHIELD. He is currently on the second floor, meeting with Doctor Zelenka. I believe they are waiting for the inspector to finish clearing the structural integrity of the R & D department floors. It would appear most people wait to ensure a building is unlikely to collapse on top of them before exploring it wantonly, sir, imagine that.  Also, Mister Barton would like me to relay to you that you cost him his job and he is bored."

Tony feels the laugh building, deep in his chest, and he lets it come bubbling out.

 

 

The next few weeks are full of rebuilding, both the literal rebuilding necessary for his tower and the city, and the more metaphorical rebuilding of his company from the inside out as he strips SHIELD's presence away. Pepper flits back and forth between New York, DC, California, Europe, Asia, and barely has time to stop and give Tony that look- the one he would swear she has patented, where her eyes try to peer into the very depth of his soul. She smiles and touches his arm, and then she's gone again. Tony feels like he should offer to help her, but there's a reason he made her CEO and he doesn't really want it back.

He feels bruised still; though his body is healing well there is a part of him that has to stop and check every few hours to make sure the world is still the way it should be, and nightmares of a never ending expanse of blackness and stars encroach on the already small amount of time his thoughts allow him to rest.

He takes time to hang out with Bruce. Bruce is like a refreshing wave, in both his sardonic humor and his ability to keep up with Tony in a conversation. The promised Candyland is a mess, so most of the time all they do is wander around the lab levels, dodging worshipful technicians, and lend a hand sorting through the ruined equipment in search of components that can be reused. Sometimes their discoveries spark conversations, and Tony has to pull them into a functional workstation so that JARVIS can bring up his displays, Bruce nodding sagely and building on Tony's points as Tony's fingers fly through the air. Sometimes he can't draw the equations fast enough to keep up with their words. Honestly, he's never felt so alive. They have several projects just waiting for the lab space to be cleared.

 

He doesn't hear from Steve. He's seen him; Clint and Natasha have some sort of communication system set up that neither Tony nor SHIELD can hack and they keep each other informed of potential situations. Tony is jealous as heck, but that doesn't stop him, and Hawkeye and Hulk, from responding to the call for Avengers whenever they can. Criminals who may have thought the wounded city would be easy pickings soon find out differently. It's strange to fight alongside teammates he doesn't talk to, but it doesn't seem to affect their ability to work with each other. Steve acts like nothing is wrong, and all of the orders he gives make sense, so Tony follows them and doesn't think about it.

 

It's a small thing, but Loki doesn't try to take over the world again. Tony's keeping half an eye out (or having JARVIS do it), but he would never admit that he's worried he made the wrong call. He can't admit it, because then Clint would hate him even more, and Hawkeye already has enough reasons to do so.

 

Tony puts Clint in charge of updating Stark Industries' security. Stripping SHIELD agents of their covers and firing them gives him enough glee that the scowl seems slightly less permanently etched into his face.

 

 

It's been almost a month since the Phoenix incident when Thor comes to visit Tony. He brings with his new lady friend, the mutant called Storm. Honestly, Tony thinks there couldn't be a more perfect couple, and he tries- he _really_ does- to not tease them too much about their new love. Tony knows, because Thor told him, that without the Tesseract's power Thor cannot return to Asgard, because the Bifrost- which is what Asgardians apparently call an anchor for an Einstein-Rosen Bridge- is broken. But what Tony didn't know is that Thor can still occasionally talk to those in Asgard. There's something about ravens and a guy who sees everything, but the important thing is that Tony learns that no one, even in Asgard, has seen or heard from Loki, or the Tesseract, in all this time.

Thor won't say it but Tony can tell he's worried. No news is usually good news, but the Phoenix is a formidable opponent. She could have dealt with Loki and be devouring stars on the other end of the universe, only to show up back at Earth any day. Thinking about it too much makes Tony's head hurt. He's not really sure he wants to be rooting for Loki, even in this scenario, but there's a part of him that remembers Loki's eyes whenever the smell of oxidation makes him think of the encounter with Phoenix. The look in those eyes felt familiar; Tony can't really say it looked familiar because there wasn't exactly a plethora of mirrors in Afghanistan.

 

 

Tony's back to sleeping in the penthouse. There's still some cosmetic repairs that need to be completed, but at night everyone else is gone and Tony stands by his window and looks down over the city.

Tonight he feels tired, but in an accomplished way, satisfied, and filled with the warm glow of alcohol. From his window he can see several of the building projects he's funded, both through Stark Industries and privately. He's never really cared much for New York, and a part of him feels like he's done enough and it's high time he runs away to Malibu and has some time to himself. He turns to set his glass down and somehow he's not surprised to find Loki standing next to him. Adrenaline rushes up through him, but he's not surprised. There _is_ some feeling beating fiercely at the back of his throat, but Tony's not sure what it is. They stand in silence for long moments.

Tony's running the calculations. If he says anything, the odds are high he's going to go sailing through the window again. Bruce is five floors down. The latest complete Iron Man suit is behind the wall in the bedroom, twenty feet away; even though he's started mapping out an upgrade he hasn't stopped wearing the bracelets- he _is_ a paranoid bastard like that. So, all the numbers are decent, verging toward good. But he did _just_ get that window replaced and he doesn't really want to have to deal with _more_ workmen running through his penthouse.

But then Loki is looking a bit different than how Tony remembers him being. He still looks crazy, but it's like all the cats in the bag have unanimously decided that it's naptime and have curled up into a pile together. There is a calm focus to his gaze as he looks down over the city that doesn't seem to take in the damaged buildings that he is responsible for, and there is an energy that thrums under his skin like the heartbeat of the universe.

It can't really last, because Tony is physically incapable of not talking. But, maybe, if he doesn't start with the million smug comments on his mind. So instead, he seeks information. "You destroyed her?"

Loki doesn't move his gaze from the city, but amusement curls at the corner of his mouth. "One cannot destroy the Phoenix Force," he replies. His tone suggests that anyone who does not know this is incapably idiotic.

Tony snorts and refills his glass, pouring one for his guest. He doesn't ask again, but then he of all people knows he doesn't really have to.

"The Tesseract provides access to all of reality," Loki says. He wants to tell the story, wants to have an audience. Tony would smile in victory, but it hits a bit too close to home. "I used its power to transport her... elsewhere." He picks up the glass Tony poured for him. "We visited the spiral arm of the... Large Magellanic Cloud, as you call it."

Tony blinks; he knows enough to know that that's more than 150,000 light years away, but, from what they were able to learn from the X-Men, Phoenix is more than capable of intergalactic travel. "Wouldn't she just come back?"

Loki nods. "When she attempted to do so, I moved her again. We continued until she tired herself enough that her host, Jean Grey, was able to awaken and, in recognition of what she had done, destroyed herself."

Loki is still staring at the city, and Tony is starting to think that maybe he _is_ seeing the crumbling stone facades of buildings that haven't yet been repaired and the empty rebar and concrete frames of new ones in the process of being put up. Or maybe he's seeing something else, some deeper place of failure, of destruction and rebuilding.

"You said the Phoenix cannot be destroyed," Tony reminds him.

Loki smiles, a quick and feral baring of teeth that does not reach deeply enough to connect to any emotion. "Yes, that is the problem, is it not?" He lifts the glass to his lips and drinks it dry in one swallow. He sets the glass down on the table, hard enough that the entire table shudders with the impact, the bottle of Scotch jumping to the side and sloshing wildly. He turns to leave.

Tony looks down at the city. He can see Loki's reflection in the glass, and Tony is not surprised that the god hasn't left. He hasn't yet gotten what he came for.

"Thank you," Tony says. "You're an arrogant, selfish prick and a horrible, murdering bastard, but you saved the world." He takes a drink form his glass. "So, thanks. Honestly, I don't think anyone else could have done it."

There is no response and when he turns Loki is gone.

 

 

Steve comes to see him the next day.

Tony wonders if SHIELD can somehow track Loki; this seems too close to be coincidence. But it is, apparently, because Steve doesn't mention Loki. He doesn't say much of anything at all actually, just walks in after Tony tells JARVIS to let him, and stands there looking at Tony.

There is something desperate in his eyes. "You know I never believed Fury, right?"

Tony doesn't respond. Mostly because, yeah, he had kind of thought the opposite.

Steve huffs. "I mean, I _was_ really angry at first, but I never thought..." His jaw tightens and he meets Tony's eyes, full Captain America look in place. "You made the right call."

Tony's eyes open wide. "See, that would be near the top of the list of Things I Never Thought I’d Hear Captain America Say."

Steve is holding his gaze steadily. "You did," he affirms, and something Tony didn't know was broken inside him feels like it's starting to heal. "I'm sorry it's taken so long for me to say it. I... I had to smooth a lot of things out with SHIELD first." Tony's expression darkens and Steve holds up his hands. "They have a lot of resources, Tony. I don't think it's smart to cut them out completely. I mean, for me. You have to do what you feel is best."

Tony sighs, running his hands through his hair. "You can't trust them." He laughs sardonically. "I'm sure that's what they say about me."

"Actually, Director Fury has retracted any claims that your actions were influenced by Loki's control."

"Thanks," Tony says, because he knows from what Clint said that this is Steve's doing.

Steve looks at him hopefully and Tony wonders what the man wants from him. "You know you're always welcome," Tony says, though he wonders why. "You and Natasha. And Thor." He's kind of lost track of the big guy and he isn't sure if Thor is still affiliated with SHIELD at all. Thor tends not to show up to their battles as often, but when he does he brings Storm and a couple of X-Men.

"Thanks," is Steve's reply. It's awkward as hell, but it's still one of the better conversations they've had and when Steve leaves Tony feels like he's actually accomplished something.

 

Things get less awkward between him and Steve, relatively speaking. Steve comes by Tony's private lab a time or two to watch him while Tony's working on the suit, and he occasionally asks Tony questions about things related to his work rather than directly about Avengers business, not that he always understands Tony's answers. He actually has a couple- okay, like one and a half- helpful comments about Tony's upgrade on the Mark VII's seeking tech.

But Tony's still an ass, and more often than not Steve leaves in annoyance because Tony deliberately makes jokes he knows Steve won't get. Things like this tend to happen more often when Steve mentions Howard. Personally they drift back apart, but professionally they work well together, better than they did before.

 

 

When Betty Ross has a huge fight with her father, gets blacklisted from her cushy university gig, and loses all of her military funding, Tony offers her a job at Stark Industries. Bruce is grateful, but all the two of them ever do is argue. Doctor Ross is bitter, about a lot of things. She swears she doesn't blame Bruce but Tony can see that Bruce feels guilty. They're trying to finish a project they started together; Tony's pretty sure that's never going to happen given that they can't say more than five words to each other without yelling. Tony doesn't mind funding them anyway, and when Bruce feels guilty about their lack of progress Tony drags him down to Tony's workshop and they blow off steam by blowing stuff up. Hulk's not the only one who likes to smash things.

 

 

It seems like an afterthought when he sees Loki again. Really, this should be more surprising than when he stopped by the first time, but Tony just can't find it in himself to be surprised because, once? Once is an occurrence, but twice? Two values is the start to a data set, and he's already running the math.

He returns to his penthouse one night to find Loki standing by the window and looking down at the city. Tony doesn't say anything to him at first, he just comes in and pours himself a drink and wanders over to the window himself.

It's been a few months and the city is visibly healing. Tony doesn't like to brag- who's he kidding?- but a lot of that is because of SI programs he helped set up. He's been working with Elisabeth Braddock via the Xavier Estate to help residents displaced by the destruction in the city get emergency housing in Westchester County due to their sudden population drop- Tony had quirked an eyebrow and Betsy had said, mouth a grim line, "yes Phoenix, and if you ask for details I will give them to you so don't fuck with me"- while the construction companies got to work on Midtown. New York has too many memories for him to ever truly like it there, but he's more than a little proud of how everything is starting to look now.

"Your kingdom heals itself with time," Loki says, and Tony is flattered less by the words than by the fact that Loki broke the silence first.

"Well, it's always nice to have an opportunity to show off."

That startles a laugh out of Loki, and Tony turns to look at him. Loki is watching him as well, and there is an odd look on his face. "Shall I destroy a few more buildings for you then?" he offers.

Tony rolls the liquor around his glass. "No, thanks. I've had enough rebuilding for a while." Loki tenses. Tony's not sure why. He's going to assume the comment made Loki think Tony was about to bring up Thor; Tony might be an ass but he's not stupid. He knows enough to know how he reacts every time Steve mentions Howard. "I've been looking up more instead lately." He pauses, but supposes he has in front of him the only person who can give him an answer. _Will_ he, though, is more the question. "Should we be worried about an attack from space, or just concentrate on containing any stray portal cubes we run across?"

Loki presses his fingers to the window glass. There is Tesseract blue light sparking from his fingertips, and it swirls over the glass in patterns. It is a long time before he answers. Tony can wait. He is watching the light swirl around Loki's fingers with a fascination that borders on avarice.

"You have no reason to be concerned," Loki says eventually. "There are many races among the stars who desire the conquest of Midgard, but it is obvious that you are more than a match for them. Rest easy on your laurels."

Tony almost laughs. "You have got to be a better liar than that." He throws back the rest of his drink.

Loki smirks and his fingers tense against the window glass. The trails of light quiver and vanish.

It's probably going to send him through the window, but Tony can't help but ask. "So, being possessed by Tesseract fire must be fun. You're not repressing any desires to turn people into mindless minions again, are you?"

Loki grins widely; the expression looks out of place on his face. He seems surprised in spite of himself. "You think you understand," he says.

Tony glances down at his empty glass with a rueful grin, and when he looks up again Loki is gone.

 

 

It's less than a month later when he sees Loki again.

Tony's spent the day settling Jane Foster and company in on R&D level 9. Her lab is across from Betty Ross, and Tony put them next to each other so that he can collectively avoid them more easily. Of the group of women, Tony was pretty sure Darcy Lewis was going to be his favorite; she made what could have been an incredibly awkward day go much easier. Doctor Ross and Bruce's arguments have escalated to the point that the entire R&D department clears out whenever they see her coming. There haven't been any Hulk incidents, but Tony knows he's probably the only one who isn't worried about that. "Heated" is too mild a word to use for the interchanges between the two scientists.

Introducing Jane Foster to Betty Ross, Tony thinks he knows what being god must feel like. He's never seen two people who clicked so perfectly, were so _meant_ to be together. It's like watching two atoms form an ionic bond, knowing the resulting compound was going to be stronger and more balanced than the atoms ever were apart. He knows Bruce sees it too, and though there hasn't ever been any hope for him and Betty there is a difference between watching something die slowly, hoping it will retain some life, and watching it take a hollow-point to the temple and knowing without a doubt that it's dead.

"Oh my God, could those two _be_ any more in love?" Though she is a self-proclaimed refuter of the hard sciences, Darcy Lewis's tone has all the fascination of someone conducting an experiment that has at last returned interesting results. Bruce smiles at her. They spend the rest of the afternoon falling into an easy camaraderie. When Tony excuses himself from dinner he doesn't think anyone notices.

Tony's alone in his penthouse, his fifth glass of Scotch half empty and rolling between his fingers. He's thinking about Pepper, and about Rhodey, and about people in general and about being alone. He used to have a... need, to not be alone. To constantly prove to other people that he was worthy of their attention. He thinks Iron Man has filled a lot of that need. But there are moments like this- when he sees Bruce smile at Darcy, his expression warm and unguarded- and he thinks he still has an unfulfilled need to be the center of someone else's universe. Even if it's only in the mind, and the sparks only happen in the way their words click together; even if it's a stranger, and the connection is only in the body and only for a night.

Tony's thinking he might leave, but when he turns around Loki is sitting on the couch. He has helped himself to a glass of Scotch and is watching with careful fascination as the amber liquid clings to the glass.

"You prefer it neat." It's a pointless observation, said more for the purpose of saying something, anything. Tony isn't feeling cautious tonight.

"The Executioner will not trouble you any longer," Loki says, completely ignoring Tony's remark. He's referring to a battle the Avengers had four days ago with a guy who was also apparently from Asgard.

"Oh? Did you park him next to the Phoenix?"

Loki's mouth splits in his quick, too broad grin. "Unlike the Phoenix, and certain other forces, the Executioner is quite capable of dying."

Tony doesn’t really want to talk about that. He didn't know the guy, and, other than wrecking a bit of Boston, he didn't do anything that wrong that Tony knows of. "I'm sure Asgard doesn't just hand out names like 'Executioner' without them being earned," he muses, "but if we start getting into the whole list of people you've killed, it's going to ruin my evening."

Loki looks at him and Tony holds his gaze. It's as if the cats from the bag have somehow merged, forming into a larger creature, a lion, patiently hunting; the god's eyes are deep and endless. This is a being that has lived a thousand years, seen things Tony cannot even begin to understand, knows the workings of the universe in a way that humans can only glimpse. Tony supposes he should draw some comparison to Thor, but there is none. Thor is old in the way that the Earth is old. He is... stolid. Like stone, and lightning, the changeability of the storm still bound in the rules of the mesosphere. This... it's like he's working with a completely different data set. Loki is a reaction, a star constantly burning itself up, atoms continually merging and splitting to create new elements. It's fascinating.

"I thought your evening was already ruined." Loki turns back to his glass. He seems unsettled. "You are here, alone." He says the words judgmentally, as if Tony is alone only because he cannot compel others to attend him.

Tony narrows his eyes, cutting through about five layers of bull.  "Of course you've never wanted to be alone, without the constant chatter of people too stupid and self-absorbed to understand the way the world works." Loki jerks, looking up at him sharply, and Tony knows he's hit the nail, if not square on the head, close enough that it went in straight. "Sometimes, those closest to you are the blindest."

Tony's talking about himself, and about Rhodey and about Steve, and about Bruce and Betty a bit, but he knows that Loki is thinking about Thor because he gets that dark look on his face. Loki crushes his glass between his fingers and stands, the shards of glass tinkling quietly as they fall to the floor and flares of blue light dance through the air.

"Pepper never understood," Tony continues, ignoring Loki and pacing from the window back into the room. He wanted someone to talk to tonight, didn't he? Someone to connect to? He knows Loki is smart enough to get him, and god knows their personalities are just similar enough that this is probably going to get him killed. "She never understood why I made the call I did with Phoenix." He swirls his own drink and takes a swallow. Loki is watching him. "Hell, Steve gets it. Clint gets it, and he hates you more than anyone. But she.... We're still friends like we've always been, but sometimes she looks at me funny and I know she's still thinking it through, trying to understand." He sighs. "I wish she wouldn't let it fester. I wish she would just say something, but if I bring it up then I'm the one on the defensive."

Loki is watching him. His eyes are vibrating with the force of the stars they contain, constantly compressing hydrogen into helium, and Tony thinks he could just stare at them for a while and that would be a good evening. "I want to run tests on your eyes," he says. Loki quirks his eyebrows down in confusion, and Tony tries to make it a complete thought. "There are stars being born in your eyes, and I want to see if they have the same rate of fusion as stars in our galaxy." Could they be seen burning billions of lightyears away? Could they spin out chunks of rock at the perfect distance to support life?

Loki's eyes fly open wide, but he pulls his shock back, pulls it into him, and Tony thinks he sees how the process of fusion started; there is too much contained inside and no room to hold it all. "I'm sure Thor would submit to your tests." He sounds bored and as if he's still trying to decide if he's offended.

Tony moves from where he's standing near the table to the other end of the couch, falling into the cushion of it with a derisive noise. "Thor? Thor is nothing. He's... monoliths, and steady bodies of water. There are no stars, no chemical processes." His words are deliberately picked for his audience, but it's also true. He's also realizing he's probably drunker than he should be for this conversation; he hadn't planned on sparring with words this evening.

Those chemical eyes are watching him intently, the lion sighting prey. "Flattery will get you nowhere," Loki says, real amusement in his voice. "I believe that is a common saying?"

Tony snorts. "It's a lie. And you know damn well it is." He grins; the double answer was unintended, but it's economical and that is beautiful.

"It is a lie," Loki agrees. "And what shall I receive should I employ flattery on you?"

Tony hums. "Try it and see."

Loki smirks. "Your hospitality is without compare, Stark. Perhaps another drink?"

Tony laughs and stands to get it for him. He takes it to Loki and their fingers brush as the god takes the glass. It's the first time they've touched since Loki threw him through a window approximately five months ago. "God," Tony breathes. "What the hell are you doing here anyway? What do you want?"

Loki's fingers tighten warningly around the glass; with a detached fascination Tony thinks it might be easier to replace them in pairs. Loki is gazing out into the night and there is a look on his face that could almost be yearning. "It doesn't matter what I want," he says, that yearning look shuttered away behind a calm facade. "The Phoenix showed me it doesn't exist."

Tony blinks, processing the information. He got an answer; he's not sure how much he can trust it. "That's something worth knowing," he says slowly.

Loki's expression tightens. "Perhaps."

Tony thinks about the things he wants. To be told by a cosmic entity that they, irrevocably, do not exist would leave him in a sort of limbo that it would be difficult to get out of. But not impossible. He retreats back to his seat. "I've had the world pulled out from under me enough to know that it keeps going, even when you lose pieces of yourself."

"Presumptuous," Loki murmurs. He sets his glass, untasted, on the table in front of him.

"You know it. And you never answered my first question," Tony reminds him.

The room has gotten darker; the only light comes from the cityscape outside and, dimly, from under the collar of Tony's shirt. Loki leans forward in his seat. "What am I doing here?" he echoes. He moves quietly and swiftly, and before Tony realizes it Loki has crossed the floor and is sitting on top of him, straddling his lap.

Tony jerks in alarmed surprise. He looks up into steady eyes and places a restraining hand against Loki's chest as Loki leans down, head angled slightly. Tony has a moment to wonder if Loki's going to try to kill him again, but Loki's intent is perfectly clear and he waits, lips slightly parted.

Tony's mind is running a mile a minute. It's been awhile but he's not opposed to the idea of casual sex, and Loki is fucking hot. He's never slept with someone who's killed people. Has he? He doesn't think so, not knowingly anyway. He totally would have if "Natalie" had been more receptive. At the time he didn't know her true history, but thinking about it now that wouldn't have been what stopped him. So it's not that. He's coded Loki as "mental stimulation" in his brain, and he's so rarely had someone who truly challenged him on a mental level also spark with him physically. Invariably, one aspect of the relationship will destroy the other; he wanted someone to talk to, and so he had eliminated the other side of the equation. But, truthfully? He was arrogant enough to start thinking he was the Yinsen in this situation, the one who would guide and save out of the cave of ashes. But Loki is still sitting, patiently waiting for him to figure himself out, and it strikes Tony that, for all they are similar, Loki is _not_ him. Is, in many ways, nothing like him. The Merchant of Death was going to give the murderous psychopath a free pass this once, but he feels like Loki is the one giving him the free pass, giving him the opportunity he _wanted_ \- to prove himself and to lose himself. Tony feels... humbled. Crossing this line could very well ruin this fragile rapport they have, that was built out of god knows what there was to build it from, but that's what Tony _does_ \- build things, out of piles of scrap and god knows what, and he wants this. He _needs_ this. He leans toward Loki. He rubs his stubbled cheek against the sharp angle of Loki's chin and when Loki's lips part further in a quick gasp Tony turns swiftly to claim them.

Loki murmurs in approval as Tony's tongue slides into his mouth. Loki's hands hold his head where Loki wants it, and Tony moans as his own hands fall quickly to bracket Loki's hips. But Loki is taking his sweet time and enjoying a slow exploration of Tony's face and neck with his mouth, his fingers threading up through Tony's hair as his lips trail down Tony's throat. The slow determination is driving Tony crazy, but it makes something inside him burn in the most delicious way, and it reinforces his own belief that this isn't about lust as much as it is about seeking a connection that will make all of the thinking, the calculating and the equations, _stop_ for a moment. He wants to narrow the focus of the world to a single person, fill that world, and lose himself in it.

Loki's done with his neck and Tony leans forward a bit to pull his own shirt off over his head, letting it fall to the floor before reaching to help Loki do the same. But Loki stops him, wide eyes fixed on the arc reactor. "This may explain some things," he says, voice breathy with arousal and, Tony has to think, affected wonder. Loki reaches out slowly to place a finger against the reactor's smooth surface. There is blue light flowing through the veins under Loki's skin, and where he makes contact with the reactor there is a bright spark that Tony can feel. Loki looks up at Tony and the blue fire is leaping through his eyes.

Tony's breath catches, but he's already decided there isn't anything about this that he wants to stop.  It's not about trust as much as it is a recognition of just enough of himself in the man above him to be so, so dangerous. He knows- he remembers how the spear tapping against his chest produced nothing, and he looks at the avarice in Loki's eyes and thinks that looking for answers is another big reason they are both here tonight. He waits, barely a moment, and bingo: "Who made this?" Loki asks, absently tapping the arc reactor.

"I did," Tony says. And it's true in every sense of the word. Maybe his dad left him some notes but he created the element, he created the reactor itself, and he created the missile that put the shrapnel in his chest in the first place.

Loki's eyes are glowing. "It is a masterpiece."

Tony grins. "You were saying, about flattery?"

Loki grins back at him, blinking away the lingering Tesseract glint in his eyes, and leans in, his fingertip tracing lines across the surface of the arc reactor that Tony swears he can feel all the way down to his toes, as if the reactor was part of his skin. He surges forward, claiming Loki's lips again, his arms coming up to wrap around the god's neck, pulling him down.

They kiss for what feels like forever, Loki's body pressed all against him, their groins grinding together where Loki has straddled his lap and is pressing him into the couch. Tony has his fingers buried in Loki's long hair, and Loki cedes him the control as Tony guides the taller man's mouth down to his, occasionally letting his lips explore the expanse of Loki's throat and chest. Loki is so pale he looks like he should be fragile, but there is dense muscle under Tony's lips as they taste a line down over Loki's chest to lav his tongue over a nipple. Loki murmurs approval, raising a hand of his own from where he is steadying himself against the couch's back and cupping Tony's cheek. Loki's long finger stroke over Tony's skin with a sort of absent affection, like one would pet a dog. Tony is amused by his own mental comparison and he nips Loki lightly.

Loki's eyes flash and he pulls Tony up beneath him, trying to return the favor. But Loki is too tall for the angle to be anything but awkward. Tony takes full advantage of it and his fingers dance over Loki's skin, his lips making trails down the planes of Loki's chest. Loki shivers when Tony's fingers find a sensitive spot on his side, and Tony immediately attacks the spot with lips and tongue. Loki gasps and lets out a loud, sensuous moan. Tony laughs, and Loki jerks away from him. He's half standing from the couch and looking down at Tony murderously. Half naked and disheveled as Loki is, Tony still has no doubt the god can kill him in this moment without any discernable effort. He takes Loki's hand and places it on his chest, over the arc reactor. "If I can't be pleased that I made a god moan in bliss, I'm done with this world," Tony says, but his eyes are challenging. The anger is fading from Loki's expression; blue fire is licking over Tony's chest and up Loki's arm and Loki pulls away so that he is no longer touching the reactor.

Tony stands from the couch. Loki's already half standing, and Tony interlaces his fingers with Loki's and he leads the god to his bedroom. Loki follows, his eyes watching Tony intently. Tony turns to him, head tilted back in suggestion, and Loki kisses him, long fingers tracing patterns from the line of Tony's jaw down over the curve of his shoulder. Tony backs Loki into the bed and, when it hits his knees, Loki sits on the plush surface. He lays back, stretching languidly, the waist of his trousers riding low on his abdomen. He watches Tony from under dark lashes. Tony grins down at him; shucking the rest of his own clothing, he straddles Loki and leans forward to press his lips to ivory skin.

Loki is oddly permissive as Tony explores him with lips and fingers. "Mmm," he whispers against the curve of Loki's hip, "you taste amazing. Like cardamom and sugar." He traces his tongue down the ridge of bone, peeling cloth back and burying his face in sparse pubic hair. "Like Christmas." Loki tenses when Tony starts talking.

But Tony doesn't ever shut up, unless his mouth is busy with something else, and he's not the type to change his style for his partner. He works Loki's trousers down his legs slowly, kissing each inch of skin as it is exposed, and commenting randomly, "mmm, so this is what gods taste like, you are amazing, god, this _is_ Christmas, look what's for me." He has just enough of a brain-to-mouth filter to remember he's not supposed to mention Thor, but he doesn't really know Loki well enough to avoid other hot buttons. He manages to not get incinerated. He's sure at some point that Loki starts filtering him out, and that's probably about when he feels the god getting tense from impatience. Tony grins and presses one last kiss to Loki's ankle before running his hands back up those legs. He hooks behind Loki's knees and pulls Loki toward him in a quick motion. Through all of Tony's commentary Loki has been silent, but his eyes flash with desire as Tony presses against him. Tony takes his mouth in another languid kiss, then grins and rolls them over.

Loki is above him now, and Tony reaches up behind his head for the stash under the middle pillow. He holds up a condom questioningly and Loki scoffs. Tony doesn't move and Loki rolls his eyes. "If I wished to infect you with a disease, that would not stop me," the god says. "And there is nothing on this planet which can harm me."

Tony feels a shiver run over his skin, but he pops open the tube of lubricant and touches Loki's cock for the first time, wrapping his slicked fingers around it. Loki closes his eyes and moans, thrusting against Tony's fingers. It's a sight to savor, and Tony lays still for a moment, biting back his own moans to just take in the sight. But after a few moments Tony kisses his partner's lips, reaching farther back with his other hand and drawing a slick circle around Loki's opening. It's a question, an asking for permission, though the words that come out of his mouth are more of a moaned, "god, I'm going to fuck you so good."

Loki moans in response, his breath hitching as Tony's finger presses in. Loki is tight, but he opens up quickly, like his body is being reminded of something it is familiar with but hasn't done in a while. Tony's working a third finger in when Loki hisses in his ear, "Do it, Stark."

Tony chuckles, and even as he lines up his own slick cock, he murmurs in response, "Someday I'm just going to spend hours spreading you open and taking you apart."

Loki's not even listening, which is probably good since Tony's assuming a future event that he has no business assuming. Loki shivers as he lowers himself on Tony, moaning long and slow as Tony's cock settles inside of him. Tony can't stop his own sounds of pleasure because, "oh god, you're so hot, and I mean that both ways, oh god," and his hands are stroking over the top of Loki's thighs, spread to either side of him. Loki shudders, leaning forward and looking down at Tony. The length of his cock is pressed to Tony's stomach, and he throws his head back, and Tony grins because he _knew_ it- he knew that fucking diva would want to be on top. But then Loki is moving against him, and Tony is too busy touching skin to even remember what comes out of his mouth. He just prays his filter is working enough, but he worships at the altar of Loki and the world is narrowed to this one person, to the skin that shivers under his fingers, and the taste of spice and musk, and he forgets there was something he wasn't supposed to talk about.

Loki's climax is a slow build and lying beneath him Tony can see every moment of it. He commits those moments to memory because, seriously? He's never seen anything so amazing, he doesn't think he's ever _done_ anything so amazing as take apart a god. And maybe Tony doesn't really believe in god, but in any case a superhumanly powerful alien wizard is probably close enough. It's only when Loki growls, "Shut _up_ ," that Tony realizes he said all of that aloud.

"No," Tony says with his own growl. His hips are snapping up against Loki and he's holding that divine ass in both his hands and he can feel the edge is not far. Loki is leaned down over him, his eyes fixed on Tony. "You are so amazing, god that sounds trite, but you are... chemical, you are _noble_ , and I'm forcing a reaction anyway, I'm breaking you down because I want to see every subatomic particle. I want to see you." Tony can feel it, it's so close.

Loki's breath stutters, his eyes close and he turns away, and with a harsh cry he comes all over Tony's stomach. The hot splatter and the clenching muscles of Loki's body are enough to push Tony flailing over the edge and he comes with a shout of his own. They're both trembling and Tony pulls Loki close and presses his lips to the other man's cheek.

 

 

Tony wakes in bed, morning sunlight falling over him. He's not surprised to find that Loki is gone. He feels utterly amazing and like his entire body is refreshed and new. He goes down to breakfast in the best mood he's been in a while, in spite of his vanishing lover, and having completely forgotten what happened yesterday.

Bruce is a wreck. Tony had seen yesterday that he was seriously crushing on Darcy, but it seems like Tony underestimated the variables there: it's way worse than a crush. Bruce seems to have spent the entirely of last night thinking up a list of reasons why this relationship is not going to work out.

"They are valid reasons," Bruce protests when Tony scoffs.

Tony rolls his eyes and takes a drink of coffee. "Bruce, seriously? They are very valid reasons. But let me just ask you one thing."

Bruce looks at him expectantly.

"How long have you known Darcy?"

Bruce has the presence of mind to be chagrinned. "Approximately 22 hours."

Tony raises an eyebrow and says it even though he doesn't think he has to anymore. "Isn't it a bit premature to be focusing on all the ways this relationship that you don't yet have is going to end?"

Bruce closes his eyes. "I don't want to hurt her."

"The Other Guy wouldn't hurt her, so I _know_ that's not what you're talking about."  Bruce rolls his eyes, not in the mood to start _that_ conversation again and Tony glares as he finishes his coffee. "Bruce," he reminds his friend, "she's not Betty."

Bruce looks affronted. "I know that."

"No, I mean she's not... she doesn't have to take sides, okay? She's not going to ruin her career by telling her father he's a rampaging asshole. That's not a choice she's going to have to make." Bruce takes in that revelation, nodding slowly. Tony smiles. "I think she can handle herself, okay? Give her a chance."

 

Darcy is waiting by the elevator when they head to R&D. She's listening to her iPod and doesn't notice them at first and Bruce stops cold when he sees her. She looks up and smiles. She fixes Bruce with a look like a hound on a scent and her smile spreads, slow and predatory. Tony grins but doesn't think either of them notice him. He checks to make sure Foster is settling in, and, obligation over, leaves the lovebird floor to its own devices.

 

Tony goes down to his private workshop and stays there, and it's been a day, or maybe two, before Darcy finds him. She wanders in all casual nonchalance, like she didn't specifically ask JARVIS where he was and have JARVIS ask him to let her in. She sits on a stool and watches him solder wires in his helmet, the light sparking reflections in her glasses. "So, you're like Bruce's best friend," she opens with.

"I guess," he says, because he hasn't really thought about it, but doing so now he supposes he is. He feels both personally honored and annoyed as fuck with the rest of humanity.

Darcy nods, spinning on her stool. "I heard you like to poke him in the side."

He raises an eyebrow at her. "I heard you like to tase people."

She grins, nostalgic. She leans her elbows on the table and watches him closely. "Should I be worried?" she asks.

"You are not one for beating around an issue, are you?" Darcy raises an eyebrow at him and Tony smirks at her. "If you're asking me you know the answer I'm going to give."

She snorts. "It's like, you're the _only_ sane person in this building," she complains, throwing her hands up. "The minute I say anything, anybody else just starts stuttering and gives me the 'deer in the headlights' look. Even Jane! She thinks I'm crazy, though I don't know what _she_ was doing with Mr. 'The-Hammer-Is-My-Penis.' She tells him to take a hike, and I'm the crazy one? I think she's allergic to superheroes, which is _so_ not going to work out."

"Why Bruce?" Tony asks her.

She cocks her head to the side and thinks. "I dunno. He's just so..."

"I could eat his brain," Tony says seriously. "It's that yummy."

Darcy rolls her eyes. "Yeah, that's nice, but it's more that..." She trails off, and when she speaks again there is a soft quality to her voice that Tony approves of. "He wants so much to help people. Even when he's running away from the world he stops to help everyone he can. He wants to help so badly he's hanging out here with his ex to finish developing the antiviral serum they started together." Her eyes are serious too as she looks at Tony. "He's a hero, a bigger hero than any of you." Tony nods. He won't argue that point, not in a million years. "I just think it would be awesome to get to know someone like that." With that, she stands and turns to leave.

"Look," Tony calls to her, "I would totally fund your research, but you're not an astrophysicist or a biochemist. Is there anything I can do for you?"

Darcy turns back to him. "I applied to Columbia's PhD program and listed you as my character reference. My application advisor is looking forward to meeting you. My PoliSci field of study is International Relations, by the way."

Tony grins. _Yeah_ , he thinks, _she's gonna be just fine_.

 

He spends a few more days in his workshop, deliberately unaware of the rest of the world. Bruce floats through a time or two, but Tony's in his own head space. Bruce recognizes it, and, angel that he is, lets Tony work.

It's been 105 hours, JARVIS helpfully reminds him, since the last time he's been to his penthouse, and Tony's getting sick of catching naps on the couch in the workshop and living off of protein shakes. He probably also smells _amazing_ but his nose took a vacation about two days ago. Gritting his teeth, he heads for the elevator.

It's not that there's anything inherently wrong with his penthouse, it's that Tony knows it's going to be empty. It's an emptiness that isn't about the fact that there are no other people there, but more about the person that definitely _isn't_ going to be there. The one that Tony knows he is going to feel the lack of, despite knowing what he was doing when he went into this.

The elevator opens on the penthouse, Tony steps out, and freezes. Sitting on the couch, swirling a glass of Scotch, is Loki. He looks up at Tony and his expression is hard and blank. Tony knows enough to know that when you reveal nothing is sometimes when you reveal the most.

"I didn't think you were coming back," he says. "And I didn't... I didn't want to be up here alone."

Loki's expression softens into amusement, and he questions, "Did you believe I was unsatisfied?"

"You were gone." Tony shakes his head. "I... It's what I do when I'm... done with someone."

"Ah." Loki stands, setting his glass on the table as he moves around the couch. He's standing in front of Tony, looking at him with those eyes, but they're not quite touching. Loki wrinkles his nose.

"Yeah, uh, I was just headed to the shower." Tony feels himself blushing. Dammit, he's completely off guard. There are equations opening up with new variables in Tony's head, but he can feel that he's writing them on the edge of a precipice that hinges on Loki's replies. Everything could change, depending on what Loki says or does, and Tony is thrilled to realize that Loki has done it- he's turned _Tony_ into a reaction, not a static being but one filled with atoms that depend on other elements to know what they will form themselves into. He wants to say all of this, but it feels like too much, and instead he looks in those eyes and says, "Would you like to join me?"

Loki smirks.

 

It's a little weird, because it's one of the tamer multi-person showers Tony's had in his life. They strip down, and Loki washes Tony's hair with the intense concentration of someone who does _not_ like things he touches to be dirty, and there is a lot of kissing and touching, but not much in the way of intent fooling around. They touch to sate their senses, not for the purpose of arousal, and though arousal follows it isn't the end goal. They move to the bedroom and fall asleep with their limbs entwined.

Tony's lying on his stomach when he wakes, and he can feel Loki's weight lying half on top of him. Loki is kissing the back of his neck, moving down the line of Tony's spine slowly. Tony can't even really describe it, but it feels like Loki's paying perfect attention to each individual vertebrae specifically, wrapping his tongue around it and lifting it out of Tony's skin to make sure he's touched every single inch of it, before placing it back and sealing it beneath the skin with a kiss. It's impossible but it _feels_ fucking _fantastic_. Tony shivers, but lies as still as he can, wanting to see how far this will go.

Loki makes it to the lumbar 2 at the small of Tony's back before Tony can't hold it back anymore and moans out a hearty, "Fucking _god_."

Loki stops. "Loki," he corrects, his tone one of mild annoyance.

Tony thinks he might laugh, but then Loki goes in for the L3 and Tony feels like that tongue is going right through him and curling out the other side. "God," he moans, "fucking... _Loki_ , yes, mmm, more, Loki."

Loki hums in approval, working his way down. He makes it to the tailbone and, having run out of vertebrae, doesn't stop. His long-fingered hands part the cleft of Tony's ass, and Tony thinks he might come just from the feel of Loki's tongue on him, _in_ him. He's screaming, swearing, and trembling, and he does come, hard, just from the god's tongue in his ass. Tony's never been so blissed out. And then Loki is on him, covering him, his cock slipping inside of Tony's slack body, and he takes him in long, deep thrusts. Tony gasps for breath, moaning a soft litany of two words, "yes, Loki, yes, yes." Loki's lips are at his ear; he can hear the quickening of Loki's breath every time Tony says his name, and the sub vocal moan that lingers in the god's throat. Tony turns to face him and locks his lips over Loki's, determined to suck the sound out.

The thrusts quicken and lose their slow rhythm. "Loki," Tony breaths against Loki's lips. "Loki, my beautiful fucking god. Come for me." Loki hisses in defiance, but his body shivers and thrusts and Tony can feel the heat spreading deep inside of him. He closes his eyes and savors the sensation. He's hard again, but he doesn't even care. "You are amazing," he murmurs against those lips. Loki tries to pull away, but he's not trying very hard because Tony holds him easily, even twisted around the way he is. "Your lips and your fingers, and your tongue, dear god, Loki, I think I'm drunk on your tongue." Tony's head is spinning. "You can come and do whatever you want to my ass, anytime."

That gets him a huff of amusement in response. Loki pulls out, and Tony savors the burn that ripples through his muscles. He rolls over, reaching for Loki and tracing his fingers over skin.

 

* * *

  
Pickle Lake, Ontario, Canada  
(2 months later)

The Avengers have been strewn about the taiga of mid-Ontario for the past week. Tony usually avoids Canada, for no particular reason other than most of it is boringly filled with a lack of people. The tiny town of 400 souls that has been putting them up is the northernmost point of Ontario accessible by actual road. Tony almost can't believe human beings live in this wilderness, but this is where the fugitive mutant Mimic has decided to make his stand. It's a fairly standard subdue and intake, but this guy is slippery enough that Storm asked for their help.

Captain America ends up organizing a cross-team operation with the X-Men, and with nominal cooperation from a group called Alpha Flight. Mimic has the ability to copy and retain the powers of up to five other mutants. His current combination of Mystique, Sabretooth, Northstar, and two other as yet unknown powers is making him difficult to track down and hold onto. After what he did to Northstar the rest of Alpha Flight is understandably wary about getting close to the guy, but that doesn't stop Tony and Clint from cat-calling them incessantly for sitting this out. Which makes Alpha Flight even more interested in throwing someone else's team to the metaphorical wolves.

"At least it isn't snowing today," Tony sighs as Iron Man, Thor, Storm, and Banshee take off in a pattern aerial sweep. He's partnered with Thor on the inner circle while Ororo and Sean take the outer circle.

"That's because we got rid of the Canucks," Clint replies, Hawkeye currently tucked in the boughs of a massive pine along a trail route they think it likely Mimic will use. Through the communicator, Tony can hear the amused protest of Clint's partner. "Logan," Clint says back, "last month it was _August_. It's not supposed to snow that close to August, it doesn't matter where you are. That's just wrong, on so many levels." Logan says something else that Tony doesn't catch, and Clint continues, voice aggrieved, "Just because it all melted before noon does _not_ change the fact that it snowed yesterday."

"Cut the chatter," comes Steve's voice. He's on the easternmost track, partnered with Psylocke; Widow and Nightcrawler are on the western sweep. "Banshee is making the outermost circle,” Steve continues. “Thor, Iron Man, target should be heading your direction."

Tony could grumble some more but he suddenly sees something. It's just a bear, running through the trees, but Tony has the weird feeling that bears don't run like that. "Guys, I'm not really familiar with the indigenous wildlife, but do bears run continuously in a straight line for miles without stopping?" Tony swoops low for a closer look without waiting for a reply.

He flies down in front of the bear, hovering on repulsors a few yards away. "In a hurry there, Yogi?" he asks.

The bear narrows its eyes at him. Just when Tony starts to think it doesn't actually look much like a bear at all, an invisible hand grabs him out of the air and slams him into a tree.

He tries to move, but he can't. The HUD is flashing lights at him, and he can hear JARVIS' voice dimly. He slides down against the tree and crumples at the bottom. He gasps for breath and realizes the air filtration is not working. Tony manages to move his hand to hit the release; the faceplate pops up, but he still can't breathe. He tears the helmet off completely, and suddenly he's on his hands and knees in the frost and pine needles, gasping for breath, his whole body trembling.

Tony looks up to find the bear is no longer a bear but a man, who is walking toward him with deadly intent and a crazed light in his eyes. Tony fires his right hand repulsor and catches Mimic in the chest, knocking him to the ground but he’s up again in moments. Suddenly his skin is covered with a metal sheen that makes Tony do a double take because he knows Colossus is dead, it happened right in front of him.

Mimic raises a hand and Tony feels the invisible hand grab him again, lifting him from the ground. He twists his own hands in the gauntlets and it hits him- it's not him, it's the _suit_ , somehow Mimic is controlling the _suit_ , and Tony's thinking, already freeing his right hand from the gauntlet so he can hit the release for the suit, but it doesn't matter that much because Mimic closes his fist and the light in Tony's chest flickers and dies.

Panic is climbing up Tony's throat, followed by a pain he cannot describe but which haunts his dreams. Mimic drops him to the ground. Tony's free hand goes to his chest instead of the manual release, and he can smell sand and heat.

He's pretty sure he blacks out because the next thing he remembers he's lying on his back and Loki is kneeling over him. Loki's eyes are solid blue and he has both hands framing the arc reactor, which, Tony realizes belatedly, is comforting him with its usual hum and glow. Tony's left hand reaches for the arc reactor but collides with Loki's hand instead, and Tony feels his gauntleted fingers close around Loki's wrist. Their eyes meet. Startled by something Tony doesn't hear, Loki looks up and then vanishes. Tony can smell lightning.

"Tony Stark?" he hears Thor call.

Tony sits up, rubbing the back of his head. "Hey Thor," he calls. "Over here."

Thor strides through the trees. "Are you well? The Captain is most distressed that he has been unable to communicate with you."

"Yeah, I'm fine." Tony smiles, but it doesn't convince even him and he puts his helmet back on before Thor decides to ask him about it and slips the gauntlet back on his other hand. There appears to be no permanent damage to the suit and he can hear Steve's sharp, crisp commands and Clint's biting, sarcastic responses. "Guys," Tony says, and they both stop. "I think I can confirm that Mimic's other two donors were Colossus and Magneto."

"Are you alright?" Steve's question is businesslike, but Tony can still hear the edge that has mostly faded from his voice.

"Yeah," Tony says again, able to put a bit more conviction in it this time. "I'm fine. He just threw me into a tree, knocked me out for a minute." His fingers are pressed against the suit's breastplate, covering the reactor housing, and once he realizes he's doing it he makes a conscious effort to pull his hand away.

Thor is nodding. "I was able to capture the villain," he says, grinning. "His metal skin did little to protect him from a lightning strike. My beloved is watching him now; he shall not escape her."

Tony grins to that, because he would not want to wake up to a pissed off Ororo after being struck by lightning, and that seems like enough payback at the moment.

"Banshee is headed your way," Steve says. "Regroup at Pickle Crow for debrief."

Tony quirks a smile at the name of the ghost town where they parked the quinjet, Steve deeming it safer than the actual town of Pickle Lake. "Boring," Tony complains. He waves a hand at Thor and sighs. "I'll meet you there."

Thor nods and, with a whirl of hammer, rises into the air. Tony was counting on him being too flushed from the chase, and eager to rejoin Storm, to want to wait for Tony. When he's gone Tony takes off the helmet again and looks around.

The forest is thick and, for all that it's full of the sounds of birds and the rustle of pines in the wind, silent. "Loki," Tony says, his voice soft.

Over the past months, Tony's gotten used to Loki showing up. Multiple nights a week he'll pop in: sometimes for a quickie, sometimes to drag Tony to bed and sleep the night wrapped around him, sometimes to talk disdainfully of the human grasp of astrophysics, sometimes to listen and watch as Tony draws forth the ideas that fill his mind, giving them form in glowing lines. It doesn't matter really; whenever Loki does, whatever he wants, Tony is ready to soak up all he can. Bygones are bygones, Tony is learning a lot even after he sifts through half the bullshit Loki throws him, and nobody else is dying. But the weird thing is that Tony has only ever seen Loki in the penthouse in New York, where Loki's not likely to run into anyone else, especially Thor. Never before has he seen Loki appear at a battle, and Tony's been in some pretty dire straits, way worse than today.

"What are you doing?" Tony huffs softly, not sure if he's asking Loki or himself. He runs his hands through his hair and laughs at himself. He looks up, ready to put on the helmet and fly straight back to New York, when he sees Loki.

Loki is standing in front of him, his eyes fixed on Tony. He seems more... vibrant than Tony has seen him lately. He steps forward, and Tony steps forward, the helmet forgotten as he cups his gauntleted hands around the back of Loki's head and pulls him in for a desperate kiss. The blood is pounding in his veins and Tony is ready for some fuck-yeah-it's-good-to-still-be-alive sex. Loki seems just as pleased that he isn't dead. The god's fingers dig into the metal of the suit and Tony breaks away. "Hey, don't damage the merchandise. I still have to fly home." He steps back and pulls the release, shucking the armor as fast as he can. Loki is too impatient to wait and he's back, his lips exploring every inch of skin that Tony has exposed. Tony's swearing up a blue streak by the time he finishes and throws himself at Loki. They fall to the ground, and, even under the trees where the frost still clings stubbornly to the ground, Tony doesn't feel cold.

 

Afterward, Tony's spread bonelessly over the soft ground of the clearing Thor made when he called lightning to strike Mimic; it's made a break in the canopy and Tony is looking up at the sky. He's managed to grab his jeans in one hand but hasn't gotten around to putting them back on. The sun, warm on his bare skin for the afternoon, is sinking below the horizon and Tony knows it's going to get very cold very quickly but he can't quite find the motivation to move. Loki's fingers are tracing lines of fire on his skin and Tony thinks he could lose some toes to frostbite before he would willingly give up that touch. But Loki seems to be in more of a hurry than Tony is and he pulls away. Tony sighs and pulls his jeans on. He raises a hand and waves it in the air. "JARVIS, shoes."

Loki laughs at him from where he is standing. Tony has his eyes closed and he savors the sound. It is full and rich, in a way that Loki does not usually laugh. Something heavy drapes over Tony and he opens his eyes to find it is Loki's cloak. "Is cape an accurate descriptor?" he asks, his fingers digging into the pile of the cloth. He's never felt anything like it. Beneath it, the chill he had from the cool air is gone completely and he feels... toasty.

Tony is looking up at the stars that are becoming visible in the growing night. "Is Asgard a place we can see in our sky?" he asks. "Because I've talked to Jane Foster and you can't make an Einstein-Rosen Bridge to a place that doesn't exist."

Loki tenses, but sighs and, to Tony's surprise, answers. "No."

Tony tilts his head back to look up at him. "No it doesn't exist, or no it does exist?"

Loki rolls his eyes. "You cannot see Asgard among your stars."

"Okay." Tony lets the silence stretch out for a moment. "Have you been to any of these stars?"

Loki pauses again and looks up. "Yes."

Tony's eyes flare with avarice. "Tell me."

Loki sighs. He lies on the ground, apparently unbothered by the weather. He rests his head beside Tony's, and turns to press his lips to Tony's temple. "What would you know?" He turns to look up at the sky.

"What is it like? Are there people? What's their tech like?"

"They are all different."

Tony huffs in exasperation. He raises his hand and points a finger into the sky. "That one."

Loki regards the direction of his gesture and makes a small encouraging sound. Tony thinks he might strangle the god out of sheer frustration. "Fine, don't tell me anything."

Loki laughs; this time the sound is darker, more like what Tony is familiar with. "It is unremarkable," Loki says. "There are no planets near that star. Pick a different one."

Tony rolls his eyes. "Why don't you pick one then, genius? Pick one you like and tell me about it."

There is silence for a long time. "My opinions are not what is under discussion. Choose another."

Tony turns his head to look at his companion. "Seriously? There has to be somewhere you like. Show me."

Loki falls silent again, and Tony wonders if he's pushed too far. He holds his breath. Loki raises his hand and points to a star. "That is one that I think you would enjoy."

Okay, not exactly what Tony was looking for, but he'll take it.  "And? Why would I like it?"

"When many cultures develop artificial intelligence, their first inclination is to use it in machines of war. That planet is a colony of such machines who have refused to continue to be used for their intended purpose. They have made their own community where they farm, and bake, and perform tasks other than the killing they were designed for."

"Wow." Tony just stares up into the sky. "You're right, that is fucking awesome. I want to do that here, but I guess first we'd need sentient war machines, and that's not exactly a step I'm looking to push." He blinks and slides a sly look at Loki. "That's a pretty good choice."

Loki avoids his gaze and is immediately defensive. "You did not expect discernment from a... sorcerer?" He hesitates just enough that Tony knows the self-descriptor was originally different. "You have listened too long to Thor's discount of any talents but his own."

Tony's gotten good at sidestepping around topics that involve Thor. "Actually, I didn't expect such good observational skills and insight into human psychology from the guy who tried to crush this planet under his boot like an ant."

Loki makes a small sound of amusement in the back of his throat. Tony can't tell if it registers actual amusement or if it's a smokescreen.

He figures it's the perfect time to push at something he's wanted to push at for a while, and he asks, "So why were you in such a hurry to wipe us out?"

Tony can almost feel the denial on Loki's lips, but his words are different. "The lives of insects are fascinating to them. But still so brief, so... small. Have you hesitated to kick over an anthill? To crush a beetle under your heel?"

Tony narrows his eyes. "You like it here," he accuses.

Loki scoffs.

The sound is too genuine to be anything but a lie. Tony laughs under his breath and says what he's thought for a while. "You never meant to wipe us out. You lost on purpose."

Loki's breath leaves him in a long expulsion, and Tony knows he's hit near the nail again. "No," Loki denies.

"You deliberately played the game to less than your full ability," Tony amends.

"Perhaps," Loki allows.

Tony laughs again. "Because you like it here," he pushes.

He can hear the eye roll. "That is not the reason."

"Then what is?"

Loki is silent again. Tony lets it stand, watching as more and more stars fill the darkness. Out here, on the edge of nowhere, he's certain he can see them all. The sky is so vast as to be overwhelming, but with the Earth firmly beneath him he finds the thought of the people whose lives orbit these other stars fascinating.

When Loki speaks, Tony had almost given up on expecting an answer. "I... was seeking a thing which does not exist."

Tony remembers that, from their talk before. He turns his head toward Loki's, the breath from his lips ghosting over the god's temple, stirring his hair. "What was it?"

Loki remains quiet and Tony debates whether asking again would yield results or finally annoy Loki into throwing him into a tree.

But eventually Loki turns toward him. "You spoke the words yourself." He sits up, the move abrupt, and looks away. "There is no throne," he says, the words flat and without inflection.

Tony remembers that, too. It's hard to forget.  He extrapolates, adding in a few things he's learned from Thor. "It's not a literal throne, obviously, because no one actually cares about uncomfortable metal chairs, but the power, the position of..." He falters, everything coming back to bite him in the ass as it slaps him upside the head. "Respect." He sits up, his movements as abrupt and unfocused as Loki's. "Respect for you, for your ideas. Because you're just as good as him, dammit, you're _better_ , and he won't..." He swallows. "It's the _words_ he won't _ever_ say, and it's...   It's making him look at you like you're worth something."

Loki is stiff next to him, and Tony worries it might have been too much. But Loki surprises him. "It is true on Midgard as well," he says. There is a lilt to the words that implies a question without actually asking it.

"Yeah," Tony says in answer. The silence spreads between them again and Tony buries his fingers in the thick cloak because the night suddenly feels cold. There is a knowledge that has been shared and he feels raw in the offering of it.

Tony remembers how he thought he was Yinsen, how he would be the one to put Loki back together and give him the chance to save himself out of the ruin he'd orchestrated, but now he's thinking that maybe they are together in the cave. Together they are trapped by their own failures, and together they will rise from the ashes like the phoenix.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soundtrack listing: "Desperado" is written and performed by the Eagles.  
> Notes:  
> -The planet of retired mechs which Loki mentions is a real thing in Marvel 616; I read about it in Rocket Raccoon #6.  
> \- A word about my X-Men characters: I'm picking and choosing continuity and I feel like it's really confusing to anyone who isn't in my head. Most characters are based on their 616 selves from the early 2000s (which was when I was reading X-Men comics consistently). As far as events, figure Phoenix happens pretty much like it did in X2/X3 just Jean loses it after she kills Xavier, Xavier dies but Scott doesn't die, and the Phoenix that happens is Phoenix from the comics (meaning it's an intergalactic entity, not just Jean's subconscious or whatever). Hope that helps.


	2. There's Nothing You Can Throw at Me That I Haven't Already Heard

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The revelation of Tony's relationship with Loki causes the reassessment of team loyalties.

**Location:** Universe YOSLY, Designation: Delta  
New York City _  
6 years pre-anomaly_

So everything is going great in his personal life, Tony thinks, and sure enough that's when it all hits the fan.

It's after a battle, they're back in the City, and everyone is hanging out, warriors relaxing over food, which Thor let them know right off is not something the Avengers invented. Tony bought out a pub for the night so they won't have to deal with civilians and he won't have to personally deal with trying to feed so many hyperactive metabolisms. It's all Avengers, and some of Storm's X-Men, and Darcy, who up and decides she's going to join them, which she does sometimes. She doesn't ask, so much as just show up and tuck herself in next to Bruce's side. Bruce blushes a bit, but no one says anything. Between them, this band of misfits has dealt with enough rejection that Darcy and her easy grin are always welcome.

Thor spends most of the meal looking varying degrees of depressed. Ororo and Steve are sitting to either side of him; Steve tries to include Thor in the conversation, especially in the laughing at Darcy's jokes, but Ororo seems to know what the problem is and only touches Thor's arm in sympathy.

Tony's not the one who asks, but he hears Thor answer, "I am worried about Loki." The temperature in the room drops a few degrees with that name. "I have spoken recently to our mother, Frigga, and there is nothing she can tell me of where he might be. No one I speak to has seen him, not since he so heroically saved Midgard from the unstable ravages of the Dark Phoenix. That was many months ago. Indeed, a full year has passed now. I fear... I fear this time he is truly gone from us."

Tony's only trying to forestall the thunderstorm of depression he can feel coming in to hang around the city. "Don't worry, Thor. I'm sure he'll turn up. Like a bad penny." But then everyone is looking at him, and Tony's not sure what he said.

"You have seen him?" Thor's voice is so full of hope, Tony can't lie.

"Yeah." Tony looks into his glass to keep from meeting any eyes. "He's been by a few times."

Everyone starts talking at once. Tony catches the first half of Steve's question, but mostly just sees the trademarked Captain America look of disapproval. Ororo's friend Sean is asking a question too, but her other friend Kurt lays a three-fingered hand on Sean's shoulder and draws him aside to murmur something in his ear. Carol, one of Steve's new recruits, wants to know who the hell Loki is, which Tony is pretty sure was what Sean was going to ask. Darcy is saying something to Bruce, their voices too low to make out except as part of the general cacophony. Natasha's look of disapproval is a watered down version of Steve's, but Clint's "How could you not say anything?" sums it all up, Tony thinks.

Tony sighs, running his hands roughly through his hair. "I'm sorry, Clint. I... It wasn't planned. He just showed up one day. It was after the Phoenix thing. He didn't stay long, and he didn't... He was different. He didn't try anything and he didn't act like he wanted to take over the world anymore. It didn't seem that important, and I guess I forgot to mention it. And then..." He stops abruptly. There's only one place he can go with this, and he's suddenly not sure he wants to.

It doesn't matter; Clint knows him. "Oh god." Clint stands up from the table. He's shaking. "You're fucking _sleeping_ with him?" It's phrased as a question, but he seems to already have his answer. He turns away, hands going to his head as if to block out the roomful of people that has gone deathly silent. Natasha is pale, the skin drawn tight over her face with the force of maintaining her deceptively bland expression. She stands and turns away as well, standing so that she is somehow shielding Clint from the rest of them with her slighter frame.

"What?" Steve says. He is pale as well, utterly shocked. The expressions around the rest of the table vary from surprise to confusion.

Tony hates it. "It's not... He's different now." He wants to say more, but he's not sure what. The whole thing about Yinsen and the cave would only sound crazy. Bruce is probably the only one who would get the stuff about the stars being born in Loki's eyes, and he would still sound crazy. He turns to Thor as his last resort. "Tell me he wasn't always crazy. That this is normal for him."

Thor looks as shell-shocked as most of the others. "Truly, Tony, I am... surprised to learn of Loki's attachment to you. In the past, as you say, he was not as he has been when you have known him my friends, but..." He falters. "I am pleased to learn that he indeed still lives, but I cannot explain his purpose in remaining on Midgard while the Tesseract still lies in his possession."

"Tony." It's Steve's disapproving voice. "Why didn't you say anything?"

Tony feels an irrational anger building in him. "Oh, because we're such pals you and me. When was the last time you said anything to me outside of a mission, Rogers?"

Steve's face darkens. "Loki is important, Stark. He is powerful, and we need to keep each other aware of what he's doing, if we're privileged to have information like that." He scowls. "And you shouldn't have let your guard down around him."

"Oh, fuck you Rogers," Tony snarls, standing abruptly from the table. "You don't get to tell me who I'm _allowed_ to sleep with."

"You can't trust him! Then things he's done..."

"Nothing worse than what I've done." The silence falls again and Tony realizes that he's breathing heavily, like he's just run for miles. "I sold weapons to terrorists, or have you forgotten?" Steve's stern expression says that he finds these things not at all equivalent, and Tony doesn't want to wait around to hear the words come out of Steve's mouth. He turns and heads to the door. He hasn't looked at Bruce once; he doesn't want to see.

The Iron Man suit flies him to the Tower and, once divested, he sprawls on his couch, head leaned against the back, the cold crystal of a glass of Scotch pressed to his forehead. That could have gone better. Really, he should have told them, at least mentioned to Thor earlier that he knew for sure that Loki wasn't dead; he knew the wondering had been eating at the guy.

"Sir, you have visitors."

Tony looks up to see Storm standing, alone, outside on the balcony. "You can't count, JARVIS."

"The others are coming up the elevator, sir."

Tony signs. He gestures for Ororo to come in. He downs the contents of his glass. "Can I get you a drink?"

"No, thank you." She walks with an unearthly grace toward the couch and seats herself regally as she levels the cool gaze of her blue eyes at him.

Tony gets himself another glass. "I'm not in the mood for lecturing," he tells her. "If Steve's on his way up-"

"I am not here to lecture," she interrupts him. She narrows her eyes. "It is, however, base of you to not have told Thor what you knew of his brother's fate."

Tony sighs. "I know." The silence goes on for a moment before he continues, "Loki's not ready for Thor. To see Thor, to talk to Thor... Hell, he still tenses when I bring up subjects that only tangentially relate to Thor. I knew if I said anything, Thor would want to see him."

Ororo nods. "That is likely." She looks out at the sky. "Thor is defending your actions to the Captain. He wishes to speak to you further, and I came ahead to tell you so, as you apparently have a reputation for rash action."

Tony huffs as he finishes his glass. "Can't imagine why." And how fucked up is it that Steve is now on the receiving end of the rigmarole he gave Fury last year on Tony's behalf? If Tony didn't have a lifelong habit of driving people away, he'd feel sorry for Steve. As it is he just feels numbed, though that could be the comforting familiarity of the Scotch.

The elevator door slides open. Tony doesn't turn, but JARVIS didn't ask and Bruce is the only one with an override code for direct access, so a part of Tony feels better. Bruce and Darcy, and Ororo's contingent- Kurt, Sean, and Betsy- file in. Bruce sits beside Tony and the others take up positions around the room.

"You could have told me," Bruce says. "But I know why you didn't."

"Do you?" Tony says, voice flat.

Bruce puts a hand on his shoulder. "Tony. You have an amazing desire to take care of people you value. I've been on the receiving end of that, and I appreciate that you don't judge with the same standards as the rest of the world. You also like figuring things out, and Loki strikes me as someone who doesn't figure easily." Tony looks at him to find Bruce is smiling at him fondly. "I'm sure he's been keeping you busy."

Tony feels like they might actually be okay, and he returns the smile.

Darcy is sitting on the arm of the couch, on Tony's other side. "Plus, only crazy people say no to Asgardian offers of sex." She quirks an eyebrow. "I should know, I used to work for one."

Tony lets the smile relax into a grin. "Glad to know I'm not crazy."

The wind outside picks up for a moment, and Thor lands on the roof with a dull thud, opening the door without pausing. "Tony," he says eagerly. "How fares Loki?"

Tony doesn't really want to know how his talk with Steve went, so it's Ororo who chides her lover and asks, "Beloved, how did you leave the Captain? Is his disposition softened?"

Thor's face drops. "Nay. He is much convinced that Loki is a villain and that any who would conceal his presence must be bewitched by his powers." Thor meets Tony's eyes. "I know it is not so. Loki... He has done much of late to earn the title of villain, but he has been dealt many blows, enough that they would drive a man to such acts. I am truly heartened to hear that he is changed."

Tony rubs his face. "Changed" is a relative term. "But you said you didn't know what he was doing here, or with me."

"Nay." Thor rubs the back of his head, chagrinned. "Loki's purposes have often been beyond my ken. But, if his mien is altered from how it has been of late, I think that can only be for the better."

 

They leave Tony that night, and he drinks himself to sleep, but wakes the next morning thinking that it's okay- if Steve can't handle him, that's Steve's problem. Tony feels bad about Clint, but he hopes this will force a restitution between Clint and SHIELD, which he knows is what Clint wants more than anything.

Things go from bad to worse, really. From what Tony can tell, SHIELD does not take Hawkeye back into the fold. Clint and Natasha disappear, and with them goes any communication between Tony's group and Steve and the rest of SHIELD. Tony doesn't get called for SHIELD-related Avengers gigs, but JARVIS taps the police lines and Ororo's got a precog- _telepath_ , Betsy corrects him primly, _it's different_ \- and they find their own work. There's no shortage of people who need help or villains who are too big for their britches, which is depressing in its own way. Most of the time Tony avoids his penthouse like he would a plague; the only thing in it is his liquor cabinet and when he is unsuccessful in his avoidance he crawls inside and doesn't come out for days.

 

Tony hasn't seen Loki in thirty-seven days; it's been thirty-two days since the blowup with Steve. It's the longest span of time between visits since Loki first showed up. Tony has no idea where Loki goes when he's not with Tony; he hasn't asked. He's sure that Loki knows about Thor somehow, and knows that Thor's been hanging around more than usual. Tony tries not to be annoyed and he tries not to worry. He hates failure but even he has to admit that he does not succeed in this.

 

He starts showing up for Stark Industries meetings without Pepper having to harangue him into the occasional appearance as figurehead. The board would apparently prefer that he remain absentee, and Pepper doesn't know what to do with him. Being CEO is a full time job and she's good at it, better than he ever was. Tony gets distracted too easily. He was looking for something here to distract him now, but Stark Industries is its own system that has grown out of needing any managerial input from him. Some of the board members want to talk about R&D, but no one's interested in anything else from him.

 

He thinks about going to Malibu, but something holds him in New York. Not only does Malibu not have Loki, it doesn't have Bruce either, or the occasional distraction of Avengers work.

 

 

It's on day fifty-one that Loki returns. Tony's spent the last thirty hours in the lab working on an idea he had, to use a low grade full size arc reactor to power a fully automated water filtration plant, and morning is just rolling past again when JARVIS alerts him, "Sir, you have a visitor in the penthouse."

Tony feels his heart touch the back of his throat. He's in the elevator and rising through the building faster than he can think about it, but slower than he wants to be. He arrives at the penthouse to find the floor strewn with discarded armor. It looks Asgardian and most of it is covered with smears of blood. Tony's heart is still in his throat with this discovery and he follows the trail through the penthouse, finding Loki in the bathroom. He's standing in front of the mirrored back wall, stripped to the waist and using the mirror to examine a particularly nasty wound in his shoulder. He sees Tony reflected in the mirror; there is a feral edge to him that smooths out when he sees and then recognizes Tony. Tony finds the order of those actions very important.

"Hey," Tony says. He's been recognized and he moves into the room without fear for himself. He touches Loki's good shoulder, affirming that he's real. "Where the hell have you been?" He doesn't usually ask, because he doesn't want to push too hard, but at this point he feels like he's earned the right to ask. And it's been a long forty-six days; he hadn't realized how much Steve's opinion did mean to him.

"Taking care of some unfinished business," Loki says distractedly, and winces as he pulls a shard of some sort of weapon out of the wound on his shoulder. It's a piece of metal as long as Tony's hand and the blood comes flowing out after it.

"Shit." Tony grabs for a towel, pressing it against the wound. "How many cities did you level?" And he wonders how he didn't hear about it; JARVIS has a special newscrawler set up just for Loki.

Loki looks at him oddly. "I was not on Midgard." He looks away, avoiding his own reflection in the mirror.

The universe is a big place, and probably not full of people who want to shower Loki with flowers and kittens, but Tony has an idea. "The guy who sent you for the Tesseract."

Loki's eyes on him are quick and sharp; this cat is wounded and ready to bite- stars fall and explode. "Yes," he says, after a long, tense moment. There is a curious edge to his voice; Tony can't tell if it means he's lying or he's impressed enough that he's actually telling the truth.

"Look." Tony takes a deep breath, focusing on applying pressure to the shoulder. "I'm apparently not very good at hiding things, so I should let you know that Thor knows." Loki stiffens. "He knows you're alive, and that you've been... coming to see me."

"Ah." He waits, but Tony doesn't say anything else. "And?" Loki prompts him.

Tony looks up. "What?"

"Should I expect Thor to arrive, momentarily? Shall he demand that I return the Tesseract, that he may transport me to Asgard as a prisoner?"

"No. Not unless he has a way of tracking you. Or unless I have the devil's own luck, which is entirely possible." Tony adjusts his hold on the compress. "He came around a lot at first, trying to catch you out I guess, but he's dropped off. I don't think he really cares about the prisoner thing anymore. He said you were a hero for the help you gave us with Phoenix."

"Ah," Loki says again. He blinks slowly. "How long have I been away?"

Tony raises his eyebrows, but doesn't comment. "Fifty-one days, since I last saw you."

Loki hums. "And how is it that Thor came by the information that I yet live?"

Tony sighs. "I... a slip of the tongue. He really misses you, and he looked like shit. I was just trying to say that he shouldn't give up hope, but he asked me point blank and... it's hard to lie to that face."

"It is," Loki agrees. "It's much easier after he's spent an evening drunkenly boasting and taking credit for saving everyone's lives." He touches Tony's hand and Tony releases the compress. The bleeding has slowed considerably. "At times, it takes on a certain pleasure."

"You're the one who actually saved everyone?" Tony takes another towel and wets it, wiping blood from Loki's skin. He opens drawers until he finds one that contains gauze and tape.

"It is a well-known fact that magic cannot honorably save anyone's life," Loki tells him scornfully. He's watching as Tony fixes a bandage over the wound and he doesn't move away.

Tony's focused on his task, but he feels his eyebrows rise. "Bull and shit," he murmurs. He's watching the way his hands move over Loki's skin. It's barely perceptible, but he can feel Loki trembling; between the blood loss and whatever battling he'd done before that, Loki must be exhausted. Tony doesn't waste any time. He wipes Loki as clean as he's going to get him for now and stripes him of the rest of his clothes before leading him back into the bedroom. Loki follows him easily, seeming half asleep already.

Tony touches Loki's face as the god lies in his bed. He presses a kiss to Loki's forehead. Loki murmurs something, already mostly asleep.

Tony dozes beside him, eventually falling into a true sleep as well.

 

He's wakened before dawn the next morning by JARVIS' urgent, "Sir, Doctor Banner is on his way to see you. Thor is with him."

Tony blinks for a moment. It's a bit early but he's fine with sharing breakfast with Thor. And then he suddenly remembers that there is blood-soaked Asgardian armor strewn all over his penthouse. He throws himself out of bed with a curse and bolts for the bedroom door.

He hears the soft ding of the elevator and realizes he's too late. He slams the bedroom door shut behind him.

"Tony?" Bruce sounds worried. He slips out of the elevator and crouches beside the chest piece that sits closest to the elevator. He's scanning the room, and by the time that Tony reassures him, "I'm okay," Bruce has already seen him.

Thor takes one look at the armor and gasps. His eyes immediately find Tony. "Where is he?" he demands.

"No." Tony shakes his head. "He's fine, and you are not going to disturb him."

Thor's eyes get dark, and all the muscles stand out along the whole line of his arm.  Tony is very obviously blocking the bedroom door; if he was trying to hide where Loki was it would have been a shitass attempt. "Get out of my way," Thor demands.

"Bruce," Tony appeals. The closest Iron Man armor is behind the wall in the room where Loki is, and Tony really doesn't want to wake him up.

Bruce places a hand on Thor's arm. When Thor tries to shake it off, Bruce puts a little growl behind it.

Thor stops and takes a deep breath. "I would see my brother," he says. There are unshed tears behind that voice, and his hands curl into fists.

Tony shakes his head. "No."

Thor does the arm flex thing again- and Tony didn't even know you could get some of those muscles to the point where they would flex like that- and he looks like he won't take that for an answer. But then he exhales and all the fight seems to go out of him. "Will you tell me if he is well?"

"He's fine now," Tony nods. "Just tired."

Thor looks at the bloodied armor. "He has chosen this sanctuary, and I will not violate that. But I... If you would tell him, I should like to see him." He looks like he might start begging, and he turns around and leaves.

Tony takes a deep breath, and his knees give out from under him.

Bruce swears. "Is he really okay?" he asks, looking around.

“Yeah.” Tony rubs his hand over his face. “I think so. He’s sleeping.”

Bruce nods. “You’ll let me know if you need anything.” And there’s an edge to his voice that implies something that he doesn’t actually say. And Tony gets it- that Bruce is supporting him, but he doesn’t actually trust _Loki_ \- but it makes him tired, too.

“Yeah,” Tony says again. He sighs, running his hands through his hair and goes back to bed.

 

When Tony wakes again the angle of sunlight is familiar, which means it's most likely late morning. He is warm, and there's a languid female body stretched against him, her head pillowed on his collarbone. He looks down into a wild tangle of purple-black hair. She raises her face to look at him and there's a satisfied smirk on her full lips.

"Good morning," Tony says, but he's thinking frantically. He doesn't remember getting drunk last night- this morning?- and he would have said he was absolutely certain he, first of all, hadn't seen Betsy Braddock in at least a week, and, second of all, had his half-assed flirting attempt shot down when he'd first tried it. Where the hell is Loki? Even if Loki's just stepped into the bathroom, Tony thinks even he, even drunk off his ass, wouldn't take someone else to bed with his lover in the next room.

"Good morning," Betsy replies. When Tony went to bed the second time he'd stripped off his workshop clothes, and as Betsy stretches her breasts are soft against his bare chest. The smooth length of her leg slides up, over his thigh.

"Hey, so, I'm sure last night was awesome, or this morning or whatever," Tony says, sliding out from under her and shifting to the edge of the bed. There's a reason he always had Pepper deal with this part. "But I have a boyfriend, and you probably shouldn't still be here."

Betsy laughs. She rolls over onto her back, her skin rippling as she moves. By the time she finishes rolling over she is Loki. He has a mischievous glint in his eyes, which are green and full of stars, and he stretches playfully, his back arching off the bed slightly. There's not a trace of the wound in his shoulder.

Tony's stopped scrambling over the sheets. "You heartless asshole," he mutters. He leans over Loki and kisses him. Loki returns the kiss with interest, his hands lacing in Tony's hair behind his head to pull him close.

When they break apart, Loki's eyes are shining with amusement. "Boyfriend?" he says teasingly.

Tony freezes up. "Um. Yeah, you know, if you wanna call it that."

Loki grins, but his eyes narrow and fix on Tony's, like someone who's signed a few contracts without reading the fine print and been burned pretty hard. "What would it mean?" His voice is easy and nonchalant and he runs his fingers lightly over Tony's skin.

Tony closes his eyes. He can feel his heart racing. This is just defining words, setting parameters. All experiments need parameters. "You can stay here you know. I mean, you don't have to... that's not part of the boyfriends deal. But you don't have to disappear to wherever you disappear to. If you want to. I can get you your own room if you want that, I've got plenty. I-"

Loki kisses his lips to get him to shut up. "If I require a space I will commandeer it."

Tony breaths in. "Okay. If you're going to leave town again for a few months or something, I'd appreciate it if you'd let me know, so I don't have to worry."

Loki rolls his eyes. "You do not need to worry for me. But, acceptable."

"Okay." Tony pauses. He feels like he should add a clause about not murdering people, but, despite what he found in the bathroom last night, it feels a little dated and he thinks speaking on the topic will only exacerbate the situation. Loki, like Tony, seems the type to push at boundaries just to see how much they'll give.

Tony carefully examines Loki's face as he thinks how to put this next part. "If you want to pretend to be other people that's great, but if you don't give me a heads up I'm going to decline, thank you very much, because I want you, not other people." He clamps his lips together and swallows and feels like he said too much. Loki is watching him carefully and Tony leans in so that he doesn’t have to look in those eyes, and like a wine taster he scents along the line of Loki's jaw before he tastes him, at the juncture of the neck. He can feel Loki's pulse racing under his lips. "Your turn," Tony says, leaning back. "Any parameters you want to set for this relationship?"

Loki's gaze grows calculating and he hums in thought. "Do not let it fester," he says finally. Tony is confused for a moment. Loki turns away, his gaze fixed on the corner of the room. "When I first came to you, you said you were dissatisfied with your friend because she would not address issues with you directly." He takes a deep breath. "If this... understanding that we have is to become a thing of statement, then do not... allow any dissatisfaction or question to go unvoiced. I would... know of it, and address it if I can. And do not be deceived as to my nature." He does look at Tony now, fire in his eyes. "I am not a tame creature to come when you call or stay where you put me, and I will not always give you answers."

Tony leans over him. "I know what you are." Loki's gaze is defiant and doubtful. "You are fusion and synthesis. Volatile, inconstant, mutable." He presses his lips to the hollow of Loki's throat and it's like he can feel the merging of atoms happening under his lips. "I never did get to run tests on your eyes. I still want to do that, by the way. I have a feeling the readings are going to break all of my instruments." He's so excited he can barely contain it. "I want to learn everything you can show me about how you do what you do, the teleportation, the illusions. I want to fuck you until you forget anyone else you 've known, and I want you to fuck me until I stop breathing. I..." He falters, but a part of him wants to let it all out, and Loki did ask. "I want to fight beside you, to learn all your moves until we can communicate in half sentences. I don't know all the history of it, but I want you to patch things up with Thor, at least enough that I don't have to keep jumping in front of him when he wants to break down my doors. I want to show everyone how awesome you are, and make them eat my dust because I knew it first. I want you to not kill people I know, and I want to not have to feel like shit whenever I look at Clint.  I want to see some of the places you've seen, other worlds far beyond the Earth." He pauses. Loki is watching him like Tony has gone mad, his jaw locked and eyes wide.

He's wrapped up his list of what's pressing on his mind at the moment, and Tony moves away, laying back on the bedsheets and letting his eyes fall shut. He can hear Loki breathing and he tries to quiet his own. After a bit, his heartrate slows. A few long moments more and he feels a hand touch his, Loki's fingers tracing the lines of his veins.

"Thor and I," he says. "What happens between us in the future is not entirely up to me."

Tony opens his eyes. "Seriously? All of that emotion fueled word vomit and the one thing you got out of that was 'Thor'?"

Loki grins. "No. That is the one thing of which I am most uncertain as to the outcome."

 

They lounge around the penthouse for a few hours, but then Tony finally lures Loki down to his workshop. His fingers are itching to run those tests. Loki seems amused by the entire idea; as if Tony could actually learn something that Loki did not wish to reveal. Loki is toying with the control panel on Tony's prototype stasis field generator and Tony's not sure who's more surprised when Bruce finds them there.

"Hey, Tony," Bruce calls as JARVIS opens the door for him. He hasn't looked up from the Starkpad in his hands. "I think I found the problem with that last set of trials. The coefficient-" He cuts off abruptly as he looks up and sees Loki.

Loki tensed the moment Bruce walked in. There's a reason, Tony supposes, that Loki's never really been anywhere in the Tower other than Tony's rooms. Tony's not worried; Bruce already knows, and he's okay. It occurs to Tony that _Loki_ doesn't know that Bruce knows. He thinks that if Loki didn't have about fifty different sensors attached to his upper body, he'd have vanished by now. Actually, Tony wonders why he hasn't done so anyway.

"I don't know that you've actually met," Tony says conversationally. "Loki, this is Bruce, my awesome lab buddy. I'm planning to totally eat his brain, in a completely metaphorical way. Bruce, this is my boyfriend, Loki. Um, the eating there is both metaphorical and literal."

Bruce, who had been leveling an amused glare at Loki, rolls his eyes and shoots Tony a pained glare. "Tony, the less I know about what you put in your mouth the better." Tony grins. Bruce pinches the bridge of his nose, but he's smiling, too. "Anyway, here's the report on those unsuccessful trials. I'll leave it on your workstation. Take a look at it later, you seem a little busy."

"Bruce, I can totally multitask!" He throws the report up on a display as he pulls up a readout of the sensors he's put on Loki, complete with a full body scan that JARVIS did. Tony talks under his breath, making small noises of disbelief and frustration. Bruce comes and leans over his shoulder.

 "Okay, actually," Tony jumps up from his seat and pushes it toward Bruce. "Can I get you to man the station here, Bruce? I'm going in."

He turns and fixes his eyes on Loki, who has been standing silently since Bruce walked in, watching them interact. Tony walks over to him and adjusts some sensors.

"So Loki," Bruce starts conversationally. Loki tenses. "What brings you to this corner of the universe? I understand that with the Tesseract at your disposal, you can travel anywhere you like."

Tony tries to ignore the conversation that's going on around him, focusing on his sensors. He does mentally congratulate Bruce on side-stepping a mention of Thor's name.

The room is filled only with the soft beep and whir of machinery for several moments. When Loki does finally answer, Tony realizes that he'd been holding his breath in anticipation. "After the Phoenix," Loki says, "I did travel to many places, in distant galaxies, all along the branches of Yggdrasil and far beyond." He falls silent. Tony is staring intently at the screen of his Starkpad, but his eyes won't even focus on the readings in the slightest. He waits with bated breath. "I encountered many things. Met many peoples, made allies and enemies." Tony is growing impatient, his fingers tightening around the Starkpad. Loki's hand comes into his field of vision suddenly. Tony doesn't mean to, but he looks at Loki. He could fall into those eyes, lose himself in those stars. Loki's hand taps his chest, sparking blue fire from the hidden arc reactor. "Do you know what an Infinity Stone is?" he asks, then huffs quickly in annoyance at the limitations of lesser beings. "You cannot.

"Before the creation of the universe, there existed six... objects, of incredible power. Such singularly exceptional power, that for one being to contain or control that power requires a strength of body and will that most beings cannot even touch upon in their wildest dreams." Tony realizes Bruce is holding his breath, too; Loki's eyes are distant and Tesseract fire is throbbing behind his gaze like a heartbeat. Loki turns suddenly, his eyes fixed on Tony. "Nowhere in all the universe," Loki says, "is there another man who has taken that power and molded it to his will in such a way." He presses a finger to the arc reactor and Tony feels everything in his chest stutter- heart, lungs, his entire body, freezing for a moment, and he can see distant stars like he did through the wormhole. He is cold all over, and his mouth is dry with a fear he cannot name. But for all that it feels like a lifetime, it is less than a nanosecond and then he is back and he can feel the arc reactor pulsing with a greater power than it ever has before. A horrific pain cuts through him and Tony feels like the magnet will suddenly pull the shrapnel from his chest with the greatness of the power it contains, pull it right through him, and he gasps for air. He thinks he can hear his eardrums exploding, but it is only the beeping of sensors, Loki's power overwhelming their ability to read. "Nowhere," Loki says again, and his voice is calm. Tony clings to that calmness like a raft in a storm, and he finds that whatever just happened didn't actually hurt at all. He feels better, like palladium has suddenly been purified from his veins, like he does after battle- winded and bruised but feeling like he has accomplished something of true importance. "A man with the intelligence and the arrogance to take that power and fashion it into a star he wears in his chest as casually as if it were not greater than the sum of all the universe around him," Loki continues, trailing his fingers up to tangle in Tony's hair.

Tony swallows. "That can't be the reason," Tony protests. He has a high opinion of himself, sure, but Loki... he's hundreds of years old. Surely he's seen more interesting things than the arc reactor. Tony feels like he's cheating; it was Howard's notes, after all, that gave him the clue he needed, and the original large scale arc reactor was Howard's and Vanko's design, not Tony's. "I didn't-"

"Shut up, Tony," Bruce says conversationally. He flicks through a few data readouts, only half paying attention to them. "He is something special," Bruce says, and Tony feels like he is a child, conversations happening over his head. "Enough to change formerly held opinions concerning ants and boots?"

Loki laughs soundlessly. "Many things change," he says, grinning madly. "It is said to be the one constant in the universe."

Bruce looks at him sidelong, and there is a green rising in his eyes. Loki tenses, but holds his ground; the grin slips from his face but it is sparking in his eyes. They look at each other like this for several moments, until Tony gets bored and annoyed. "Stop threatening my boyfriend, Bruce."

Bruce smiles easily and looks away casually. "I didn't say anything."

Loki's answering smile is tight-lipped. "To receive a threat, one must have something they desire to keep which they are capable of losing."

Bruce blinks in surprise, and Loki looks away, his jaw tight. Tony feels his own features fall slack in shock. Bruce seems satisfied with what Loki has revealed to him, but Tony can't help but think that that is _why_ Loki revealed it. Bruce leaves them in the lab. Tony busies himself with some data, but Loki reaches out and takes Tony's wrist. "Because it is what he wanted to hear does not make it untrue," Loki says. And with that he vanishes. His Tesseract fueled departure leaves the sensors clanging with readings, and Tony is several hours organizing the data from this afternoon into manageable readouts. He thinks understanding how Loki uses the Tesseract will help him find better ways to channel energy into his suit, and he is not disappointed. He doesn't hurry back to the penthouse, and when he does return there he is not surprised to find that Loki is nowhere to be found. Tony smirks, knowing he'll be back.

 

 

Tony's at an embassy benefit two nights later. It's an event Pepper coerced Tony into attending when he was trying to find things to distract himself from Loki's absence, and he can't find a way to back out of it now without admitting more than he wants to, to himself. He is drinking champagne and pretending to be interested in the words coming out of the mouth of the woman Pepper introduced him to, when he sees another woman, halfway across the room. She has long, dark blonde hair that is swept back from her face and artfully cascades down a back bared by a shimmering gown cut daringly low. Her eyes are dark, probably brown. Her dress is a unique shade of blue and it clings to her curves, which, while nice, are nothing particularly memorable. Tony could not even say what about her catches his eye, but she does. He looks away; she stops to speak to the ambassador and she is swept up by the crowd, but Tony remembers her.

The fact that he's in a relationship with a war criminal isn't exactly common knowledge and Tony is extricating himself from a trio of young women who can't seem to comprehend that he doesn't want to sleep with at least one of them when he finds himself standing by the bar. The blonde woman he saw earlier is standing at the other end of the bar. She is alone, and appears lost in thought. Tony snatches a pair of champagne glasses from a tray and goes to her, setting one on the bar in front of her.

She raises her eyebrows in affected surprise. "A drink? And what does this cost me?" She meets his eyes in challenge. Her voice is cultured, vaguely European, but without a strong accent.

Tony shakes his head. "You're my cover in case that girl comes back." He gestures behind himself vaguely, not quite ready to look back and chance encountering that particular lamprey again. "The price of that glass is that you pretend you're having a good time." He raises his glass and the woman raises hers in response.

"Hardly what I expected from the infamous Tony Stark," she says, appraisingly. "Aren't you going to ask if I want to come back to your place?"

Tony leans back in amusement. "Wasn't planning on it. Are you less interested in this conversation now?"

"No." Her lip curls in the first warm expression he's seen from her. "More so."

Tony toasts her with his glass. "Then it seems I've made a good choice. I thought you looked like someone who has a lot on her mind. I can listen if you wanted to talk."

Her smile grows more distant. "Ah, a comforting shoulder to cry on?"

Tony shakes his head. "An ear to listen, if you want it. If not, I can talk instead." He grins. "I'm quite good at talking about myself."

She laughs suddenly, the sound startled out of her, and Tony starts to see double. It's like seeing what's really there, and an overlay of something else, a memory. It is confusing, and he looks at her body instead of her face for a moment because he doesn't want to accidentally meet her eyes. There is firm muscle under the pale skin of her shoulder and Tony's breath catches and stutters in his throat when he recognizes Loki.

Tony recovers quickly. When Loki's amused brown eyes come back to Tony's face, Tony asks him, "Well? Which would you go for?"

Loki is still for a moment, his eyes resting heavily on Tony's as if trying to see if Tony knows him yet. "You talk," he says finally, grinning disarmingly as he takes a sip from the champagne glass and tucks a stray strand of hair behind his ear.

"Well." The hair doesn't stay tucked and Tony reaches for it, tucking the dark blonde strand more firmly behind Loki's ear. Loki stiffens as Tony reaches for him, caught between his affected persona and wondering if Tony has realized the truth. "I'm actually seeing someone," Tony says.

Loki relaxes and smirks. "Oh? And how does she feel about you pawing at other women?"

Tony raises an eyebrow. "I'm actually the one who brought that up. He's never said, one way or the other."

Loki is running his finger along the edge of the champagne glass. "I shouldn't think he likes it. But I can't imagine you ever invited his opinion on the matter."

Tony frowns. "I... He's..." There's a freedom in Loki's altered face and Tony confesses, "Sometimes I feel like he's slumming it, hanging out with me. For a long time, I just took whatever he would give me, and I didn't ask questions." He looks up to meet Loki's gaze, wide-eyed in surprise, and has to look away quickly. "We haven't exactly talked a lot, particularly concerning exclusivity. And he's been gone for a while lately. Travelling for business, I suppose you could say. So there hasn't been the opportunity."

Loki is silent. "'Volatile, inconstant, mutable,'" he says finally. "You claimed to understand."

Tony narrows his eyes. "I don't care where you go, or how often, but you can't complain that I don't ask you things when you're the one who disappears off to god knows where for days or weeks at a time."

He's broken the facade and Loki is silent again for long moments. He drinks the last of the champagne. "I am not here to indulge a whim," Loki says. Tony looks at him sharply and Loki's eyes have shifted and they are stormy and green. Tony leans into him, almost without thinking, and Loki steps closer to him. Loki's disguise is shorter than his usual height, and his lips brush Tony's cheek. "I meant what I said, in your laboratory. I... do not return and remain with you to incur the wrath of propriety, or for mere curiosity, or whatever else you mean by 'slumming.'" He leans closer, their shoulders touching.

Tony inhales deeply. He raises one hand and runs his fingers over Loki's bare shoulder. "Okay." He turns toward Loki, closing his eyes and breathing in the strange, feminine scent of him. "So, did you want to come back to my place?"

Loki grins quickly, his shoulders shaking with laughter.

Later, when Pepper asks him the name of the young woman he appeared to be having so much fun with at the benefit, Tony can honestly say he has no idea what name that face was going by that night. Pepper scowls in confusion and doesn't seem to understand why Tony finds that hilarious.

He feels like he should explain it to her, since this seems like it's not going to blow over quickly, and, hell, everyone else knows. "I'm in a relationship with a shapeshifter, Pep," he tells her. She takes it pretty well. He's pretty sure she thinks he's joking.

 

 

It's a few days later when Tony catches Loki bleeding all over his bathroom again. He's stripped to the waist in front of the mirror and he's digging what looks like an arrowhead out of his side. His face is a mass of bruises and there is a scabbed line of blood along his throat.

"Shit," is Tony's assessment. He runs his hands over his face. "You're fucking with Clint again?" He doesn't want to be, but Tony's annoyed, and a bit disappointed.

Loki glanced up guiltily when Tony first came in, but he scowls with his own annoyance now. "I have done nothing," he says, but amends it with, "I offered... restitution. Such as is available."

Tony blinks. He was not expecting that. "And Clint told you to shove it?"

"On the contrary. He was quite amenable. Once we had talked it out."

Godly constitution and quick healing aside, Tony can tell that "talking it out" involved Loki letting Clint beat him in the face with a crowbar. Something tightens in his chest. His hand goes to the arc reactor automatically, but he knows that's not the problem. He walks into the bathroom. Loki is watching him warily. "Let me help," Tony says softly. Loki looks away, but he nods. For the second time this week, Tony patches up his boyfriend and they go to bed.

* * *

 

Nova Scotia, Canada  
abandoned SHIELD base  
_(approximately 2 hours ago)_

Clint Barton knows that SHIELD has people following him. When they send personnel to watch him he can see them, it doesn't matter how well they think they are hidden. Still, he's pretty sure that the only reason they've mostly left him and Natasha alone is because the two of them haven't used the facilities of the base they're currently camped near. Or at least, they haven't had to enter the facility to get from it what Tasha needed.

They'll probably have to move soon; the weather is closing in to winter. And Tasha's almost done with this stage of her project, so they'll have something they need to pursue.

Clint walks out of his and Tasha's tent, looks up, and freezes. Behind him, Tasha immediately knows there is something wrong, and as she straightens up the gun in her hand is leveled at the intruder a few yards away. She doesn't hesitate and shoots twice to maximize potential damage.

Loki moves quickly, and she only hits him once in the shoulder. The god flinches from the impact but doesn't seem to really feel the pain of the wound. He raises his hands. "I did not come to attack you."

Natasha raises her eyebrow and shoots twice again.

Loki scowls at her. He waves a hand and her bullets vanish from the air.

Clint feels his paralysis melting under the anger that's surging up beneath it. He raises his bow. Loki meets his eyes and watches as Clint draws an arrow and places it on the string; he doesn't move.

The arrow takes Loki low in the thigh, the impact dropping him to his knees. The second arrow takes him between the seventh and eighth ribs on the right side of the torso and knocks him completely to the ground. Clint runs and leaps, pinning Loki to the ground beneath him. His fists feel like they're moving of their own accord and he punches the god until the anger subsides slightly. He seizes Loki by the hair, jerking his head back, Clint's knife already drawing a line of blood from the pale skin of his neck.

"Will you die if I slit your throat?" Clint's not stupid. He knows Loki let him take the god down, and the thought that this is supposed to be some sort of penance makes him even angrier.

Loki grins, the expression dark and lopsided and tinged with blood. "Unlikely," he answers.

Clint snarls. He stands and goes to the tent and grabs the long-handled pipe wrench that's sitting on the ground with their other tools. He goes back to where Loki is pushing himself slowly up from the ground and belts the god across the face with all four feet of it. The blow hits him high, across the temple, throwing him back to the ground, and it must have actually hurt because Loki looks annoyed now.

Loki takes a deep breath and closes his eyes for a moment, as if trying to remember why he's not turning them into dust.

Clint pauses. He's expended enough anger that his brain is working again. He knows Loki, in a way that no one else does and in a way he's never wanted to know anyone. "You," there is venom in the word. "You stole what was Tasha's." She's standing behind him, shadowing the confrontation with her gun, ready to assist but letting him take point. He feels her tense when he says her name. "Only she knows me like that. You didn't earn it." Loki is sitting up, watching him, and Clint lets out what eight SHIELD vetted psychiatrists and Natasha herself couldn't get him to confess. It's not that he doesn't want to tell her, or that she didn't ask, but that he could never say the words. Now that dam seems to be broken. "It's not the killing. I've killed people, and I've done it for worse reasons. But you..." Clint's hands go to his hair and he wishes it was longer so he could pull it out and maybe pull out his whole skull and wash it clean. "You crawled inside my head like you had a right to it. You made me betray men I'd trained with. I can still see the looks on their faces when I..." He falters. Silence fills the air for a moment. "You made me do it for _your_ reasons, and you made me _like_ it. You made me betray Natasha and the secrets she had shared with me." Loki is still silent and Clint knows he's right when he says, voice incredulous, "And now, you want something from me."

Loki shifts his weight and does not answer directly. "Whatever recompense you desire, if it lies within my power I will give it to you."

Clint laughs and it is a bitter sound. "Can you bring back the dead?"

"It does not lie within my power," is Loki's response.

Clint feels something in him snap and he dives for Loki again. He snatches up the wrench and he's pretty sure he's not going to stop swinging it until he beats the life out of this piece of shit.

Natasha's hand on his shoulder stops him. She looks at him. Clint takes a deep breath. He tells Loki, "I want you to leave, to never come back to Earth again."

Loki closes his eyes. He's fighting it, but Clint can see the play of emotion over his face and it feeds something dark inside Clint. "That also does not lie within my power."

"Bullshit."

Loki's eyes snap open and there is a feral edge to him. "Banishing me from Midgard removes the reason for which I should seek to mend things between us. Thusly, I shall kill you and seek my own recompense, such as it may be."

"This is about Stark." Clint shakes his head. He should have realized sooner, but Tony is not the first thing that enters his mind when he sees Loki. "Well, so sorry I can't help you with your booty call."

"It's not recompense," Natasha says, "but giving us some answers would get us all a way toward clearing the air." Her voice is quiet but clear. She grounds him, and Clint takes a deep breath.

Loki is still half sitting on the ground, his gaze locked on some distant point behind them rather than meet their eyes. "Ask," he says grimly.

Natasha is focused on him. "Why did you invade Earth?"

Loki's expression tightens. "It was not entirely my idea."

"That's not good enough," Clint demands.

Loki glares up at him. "I was in a situation which had only one available exit. I took that exit."

"Details," Tasha says evenly.

Loki bares his teeth and his eyes are feral. "A being whose power you mortals can barely comprehend but whose madness I think you will understand all too well wishes to forge a weapon of unmeasurable destructive power," he says. "He is the lover of death, and he wants only to kill all. Without the Tesseract, you may have fallen from his sight for a short while, but he will return."

"You have the Tesseract," Tasha reminds him.

"And he will not get it from me."

Tasha raises her eyebrow, skeptical. "Why not? He seems to have done a number on you last time."

Loki glares at her evilly. " _If_ he manages to take the Tesseract from me," he amends, "it will be because it is already too late to save your world."

"Why?" Clint asks sharply.

Loki takes a deep breath. "There are six... objects. Between them they control everything. To possess them is to have an access to that power." He looks at Clint. "You have felt the touch of another."

Clint feels the air freeze in his lungs in a way that has nothing to do with their location. "The gem in your scepter."

Loki nods. "It is another." He looks distinctly unhappy, though whether that has to do with the memory or the fact that he is revealing this information to them, Clint can't tell.

"And this guy, he gave it to you?" Tasha is still skeptical.

Loki grins. "I was very persuasive."

"Does he have any more?" Clint's fingers are tight around the handle of the wrench and he feels helpless.

"Not that I am aware of."

"You haven't told this to anyone else?"

Loki shakes his head. He looks... unsettled. Clint wonders if that's why Tasha decides to push him.

Tasha leans forward slightly. "Do you know?" Her gaze is so intent on Loki she almost looks inhuman. "Do you know what it's like, to be unmade?"

Loki flinches from her with a hiss. His eyes are wide and there is a blue fire pooling in them. He is shivering and breathing short, shallow breaths. He looks like he is struggling to remember why he is here.

It's not restitution, but it breaks Clint's anger. Clint releases his hold on the wrench and folds his arms. He sighs. "Alright."

Tasha is watching him and she nods. She turns back to Loki. "I have one more question."

Loki had pulled himself together slightly and he nods, though he won't look at her.

"What do you want with Stark?"

Loki narrows his eyes and his chin comes up. "That is between myself and Stark."

Tasha smirks. She seems satisfied.

"Whatever," Clint says. "I'm done sticking my neck out for that idiot." He glares at Loki. "Don't think you don't still owe me."

Tasha's raised eyebrow seems to comment on the futility of attempting to blackmail a god, but Loki nods. "I wronged you." He is bleeding from the cut on his neck and his face is bruised almost beyond recognition, but his eyes are sharp. "For Stark's sake, I will make whatever restitution you deem necessary." He stands. "But do not forget what I am." His eyes flare with Tesseract blue fire and he vanishes.

In the chill of the Canadian autumn, Clint takes a deep, shuddering breath.

"That could have gone worse," Natasha observes, and Clint finds himself laughing.

"I suppose you have a call to make?"

Natasha nods. "I think my project just manifested a side quest."

* * *

 

Stark Tower  
Tony's penthouse

Loki starts hanging around more. Tony's not sure if he likes it. The sex is great, and the talking is better, and he's learning so much, but... He knows Loki has to have some kind of plan. Some reason for what he does. And it's driving Tony crazy trying to figure out what it is.

It's a couple days after Loki got back from whatever happened with Clint. Tony and Loki are sitting in his living space sharing a bottle of expensive wine and discussing what constitutes "advanced" physics on "Midgard."

"Thor has requested to join you," JARVIS announces.

Tony feels Loki's body beside him stiffen. He's about to deny the request when Loki says, "Yes."

Tony looks at him. Loki rolls his eyes. "I cannot continue to avoid him," he says, which Tony thinks is a bullshit reason, because Loki totally could do it.

"Alright JARVIS, let him up."

The elevator opens and Thor steps out. His eyes immediately go to Loki, who has not untensed since JARVIS announced Thor's request. Thor steps into the room. He circles toward where Tony and Loki are sitting, but he keeps the long shape of the couch in between himself and Loki. Tony thinks it's because he's worried that Loki's going to attack him, which is just not fitting _at all_ with Thor's normal character, but then Tony remembers Thor's words from that night when he was about to bust down the door to Tony's bedroom: _He has chosen this sanctuary and I will not violate that_. And suddenly Tony realizes what the hell Loki is doing hanging around him so much. He remembers Loki leaning against him and shaking with weakness, Loki amused and playful as he approaches Tony in the guise of different people to see if Tony can tell if it’s him, Loki answering all of his questions even after he warned Tony he was no tame beast to come when he was called.

"So, hey, Thor," Tony says. All three of them jump at the sound of his voice.

"Tony," Thor says. He addresses his brother, voice barely more than a whisper, "Loki. You look well."

Loki's jaw is clenched and he is not looking at Thor, but he drags his eyes from the wall to meet Thor's. "Thor," he acknowledges.

Silence reigns again. It is Thor who breaks it. "I am sorry," he says. Loki glares at him, and Thor elaborates. "I should have been there, for you, when you found out."

Loki jumps up from where he is sitting, thrusts Tony's hands away, and stalks to the far side of the room to look out the window at the city below. He is trembling with anger, but he breathes deeply and buries it. _Fusion_ , Tony thinks. Thor is looking at Tony oddly, as if realizing Tony is not informed of the subject of their discussion. "I'm sorry," he says again, but does not elaborate this time.

"But you will not apologize for what came before?" Loki asks, voice scathing. "For the million little actions which, piled together, drove me to the edge where you left me?"

"No. You revenged them yourself, as I'm sure you recall." Thor rubs the back of his head in slight chagrin. "And... I was... a different man. I cannot change what that man did. If there is a way I can rectify it, please tell me."

Loki is staring at him. "You speak like a king," he says grudgingly.

Thor grins, the expression easy and open. "That is high praise, from you. Thank you, Loki."

They look at each other. Tony's excited they made it through this initial discussion with all of his furniture and walls still intact. He's sure they'll have many discussions in the future without that happy result, but even knowing this he can't help but push.

"Found out what?" Tony asks. Loki freezes again, jaw clenched, eyes wide.

"That I am adopted," Thor says. He grins at Loki, though the expression is stilted. "Frigga told me. She is not my true mother, but an elder goddess of Midgard is." Loki looks shocked. Thor continues, "She told me when you vanished with the Tesseract and it appeared I would be stranded upon Midgard for some time until Bifrost could be rebuilt. It does explain why I feel so connected to this realm."

"But you are still Odin's son," Loki says bitterly. Thor nods. "And I am not." Loki looks at Tony.

Tony feels like something is happening, something deeper than the surface. "I don't care," he says. Loki didn't know about Thor's mother, so the part earlier was about Loki. Thor had already told them Loki was adopted; discovering whoever his parents actually are seems to be the event Thor is apologizing for. "I don't care whose dad did what. I'm not exactly in a position to point fingers there, anyway."

Loki takes a deep breath and closes his eyes.

Thor is watching Loki and he looks torn. It's obvious he wants to go to his brother, but he knows as well as Tony does that the ground is made of lava- a wrong step means a fiery death. Loki may have noticed that Thor speaks like a king, but even Tony, who doesn't even know the guy that well, can see the patience he has learned. Tony's not going to point fingers, but if he was he would totally point them at a regal, white-haired weather goddess. Love has taught Thor a thing or two about playing with lava.

Now, Tony likes playing with lava, but he does it on his own terms. He turns to Thor. "So, your mom's an Earth goddess. Anyone I've heard of?"

Thor shoots him a look of relief. As the conversation moves from that into talk about Ororo, and from there her team, Loki drifts slowly back and sits on the couch beside Tony. He doesn't touch, but Tony doesn't push.

The conversation never does actually get comfortable, and after a while Thor moves to leave. "Thank you," he says again to Loki. Loki nods without speaking, and Thor goes.

Tony sits in silence for a moment. "Well, I'm not out any furniture. This has exciting prospects." Loki's hands are curled tightly into fists. He doesn't speak. Tony stands. "I'm for bed." He reaches to touch Loki's face, but Loki pulls away. Tony suppresses a sigh and heads to the bedroom.

"Tony," Loki calls after him. Tony turns back to him. Those eyes are fixed on him. Stars are dying, galaxies exploding.

"You know I don't care," Tony says. "It doesn't mean anything to me."

Loki smirks humorlessly. "Even if I have lied about everything, down to my very essence?"

Tony ponders. "No." Loki looks like he doesn't believe that. Tony huffs. "Look, I never asked you for truth. I know what you are and I know 'truth' is just an opinion, a statement without fact. If I can't see it and prove it empirically then it's not truth but hypothesis anyway.

"And I could have told you that you and Thor aren't actually related. You're... you have _nothing_ in common. I thought it was some sort of god thing, and since I'm working with a limited data pool I wasn't sure what sort of assumptions I could make about special correlation." Loki looks a little stunned. "Data doesn't lie and there is literally only a small percentage of commonality.

"But," Tony continues, "if it's for sure true, then I'm going to have to recalculate all of my comparative readings because I was operating under false assumptions when I presumed a biological connection."

"There is none." Loki's face is like granite. Tony wants to carve things in it. "I was raised covered in Odin's magic, but there is no biological relation between Thor and myself."

Tony gets what Loki doesn't actually say and it blinds him for a moment. "Are there other races in Asgard?"

"Not on Asgard."

"Another realm." Tony is thinking of the possibilities. Not only does he have two aliens in his tower, they are from completely different _races_ in completely different _places_. The government would kill to be able to get the kind of information he has access to. Come to think of it, why hasn't SHIELD tried knocking down his door? They have to know that Loki is here, Steve or Natasha must have told them. Clint might have; Clint who was in charge of security and who hates Loki. And his sudden worry jolts him out of his wonder. "JARVIS," Tony says, "double check all security codes for the last two weeks, special monitoring for known SHIELD frequencies and common derivations. And I want to know if Clint has tried to access any of his backdoors." His hand goes to his chest, but there's nothing wrong with the arc reactor. His heart is racing and his breathing is shallow.

"Tony." He feels Loki's hands on his shoulders, pulling him close. Loki's forehead touches his. "Tony, calm yourself."

Tony's fingers curl tightly in the fabric of Loki's shirt. "Why haven't they come yet?" he demands.

"Who is coming?"

Tony shakes his head, burying his face against Loki. "Everyone wants to take what I have. But they can't have you."

Loki's hands press against his shoulders; Tony can't tell if the gesture is born of comfort, annoyance, or possessiveness. "Hush. No one can take me. I am here, with you."

"There has been no SHIELD activity directed toward your interests, sir," JARVIS reports. "I report no more than the usual mentions of Loki, by name or indirect reference, in SHIELD's communications. Also, none of the backdoor inputs that Mister Barton left in place have been accessed."

Tony takes a deep breath. "Okay. I'm okay." He tries to pull free of Loki's hold, but not with very much energy and he isn't surprised when Loki refuses to release him.

Loki's gaze is sardonic and affectionate. "I wonder. Did you deliberately make this about yourself?"

"What the hell?" Tony shoves away, harder this time. "I'm worried about you, asshole. And you're accusing me of being a drama queen?" He pulls his hand free of Loki's grip and stalks to the bedroom.

Loki pursues him, pulling at his hand. "Tony," he says, but Tony pulls away again.

"Don't touch me," Tony hisses.

Loki grabs his arm and pulls Tony back toward him. "Listen to me." His grip on Tony's arm is unbreakable. Tony pulls, hard, but comes up against the realization that Loki is far stronger than he is. It's not something that Loki has used against him before, not since he threw Tony through a window what feels like a lifetime ago, and Tony is suddenly livid.

"Let go of me!" Tony pulls his other arm around behind him. "JARVIS!" he demands. And in answer, his gauntlet flies out and over his outstretched hand. He turns it around and fires the repulsor directly into Loki's chest.

The blow sends Loki stumbling back a few steps, and Tony shoots him again for good measure. "Get out!" he demands.

Loki looks up from where the repulsor blast has sent him crashing into the bar. "You will listen," he promises, and there is Tesseract fire in his eyes.

"Don't fucking count on it," Tony replies. He runs for his room and the rest of the suit.

But as he takes a step toward his room, in a ripple of blue fire Loki is in front of him. "Tony! If you will not listen, then _look_."

Tony glares up at him, ready to yell some invectives and bring out some more repulsors, but he finds himself abruptly speechless. Loki is... changed, his skin dark blue, his eyes red as blood. There are lines etched into his skin and Tony wants to strip him naked and see how far down the lines go and the patterns they make. "What the hell," he murmurs but instead of offended, the words are filled with wonder and an urge to devour this new information. He reaches out his bare hand toward Loki's arm.

Loki stands still. His eyes watch Tony's hand as if he wants to shove it away, but he only watches warily. Tony rests his fingers against that dark skin and finds it rough to his touch. Loki's body temperature has dropped as well; he's slightly cooler than the room's balmy 70 degrees. _Still endothermic, but regulating at a lower temperature?_ Tony thinks, and he wants to change the temperature of the room drastically to see what happens. He is unconsciously tracing the raised lines on Loki's hand and he wants to rip Loki's shirt off and trace them with his tongue. He looks up and meets Loki's red eyes.

Loki is looking down at Tony and his voice is little more than a whisper. "This is the skin I was born with," Loki says. "This is my deepest secret. This is the knowledge, the learning of which drove me mad. I cannot hide this from Thor, and I did not wish to ever speak of it to you. But _you_ ," Tony can't even name the emotion that is in Loki's voice. "You took what should have been the most painful revelation of my secret shame, and made it about your care for me."

Loki watches him and Tony can hardly take his own gaze from those red eyes; he is utterly fascinated. "If you wish," Loki says, his voice low, "I will leave."

Tony's gauntleted hand turns, almost without thought, and closes around Loki's wrist. It takes Tony a minute to remember why that's something they're discussing. "No," he says and shakes his head to emphasize. "I should have listened. You were right."

Loki is holding himself very still and he finally looks away from Tony. "You would knowingly allow a Jotun to remain in your dwelling, in your-" Loki hesitates over the last words, but he licks his lips and finishes, "In your bed."

"Oh baby." Tony leans in, tossing away the gauntlet for JARVIS to catch. He's leaning against Loki and reaching up to lick those lips with his own tongue. They are cool and rough, and Tony really wants to kiss them, but there are words burning in his throat.  "Oh my god, if I was an astrobiologist I'd be having an orgasm right now. As it is, I want to take you down to the lab and run all kinds of tests." Tony huffs a soft laugh, Loki flinching as the warm air hits his face. "I just... You..." Tony's never really been into emotional tell-alls, but he does try to put honest words to what is surging up inside of him. "You fascinate me, and every time I think I'm starting to get you, suddenly, bam, there's another level."

Loki is staring at him, and those red eyes are even better than the regular green ones. Tony can see the fusion _happening_ , it's not just stars, it's stripped those stars down and magnified them, and he can _see_ the base elements, the subatomic particles, and "Oh my god, you did it, I can _see_ you." He buries his hands in Loki's hair and pulls himself up, his legs going around Loki's waist. His thumb brushes Loki's cheek, just under his eye. "I could stare at your eyes forever," he says.

Loki smiles, the expression hesitant and more than a bit sardonic, but there is a desire in it- a desire for Tony's honest wonder, and a desire to believe in its truth. He touches Tony, his hands hesitant at first, but soon pressing firmly, pulling Tony close. Loki's hands and arms are cool but they are warming in the balmy room and Loki is sweating.

"JARVIS," Tony says, "lower the temperature in the bedroom fifteen degrees." He kisses Loki's cheek. "I'm going to strip your clothes off and lick every last inch of you," he promises in Loki's ear.

Loki shivers, and walks them toward the bedroom, easily carrying Tony with him. "The offer has some possibility. Are you sure you can deliver?"

Tony grins. "Oh baby."

 

 

 

Loki and Thor continue to patch things up over the next couple of weeks. Tony does eventually end up out some furniture.

Tony comes back to the penthouse after having spent the afternoon offering moral support at SI, which is getting some pressure from all sides to return to weapons manufacturing, only to find a huge hole in the wall across from the elevator on his floor, and the mirror behind the bar smashed to pieces. He stops and surveys the damage for a moment. He would imagine this is the source of the sheepish look Thor tossed him when Tony passed him downstairs in the hall. Thor had mentioned that Loki had left, so Tony's not surprised when he doesn't find his boyfriend lurking in the spare room, doing whatever it is he does when he sits and stares for hours at the runes he carved in the floor. He _is_ a bit surprised when he finds the note.

It's not really a note as such, but Tony thinks that's why Loki left it- as a sort of "I might be awhile but I'll be back to get this, so don't worry" kind of message, like Tony had asked for. He reaches out a hand and lets his fingers run over the heavy, dark green cloth of Loki's cloak. He supposes it could be a different message, but he's gonna go with that one. It touches something inside of him that Tony doesn't want to think about. He tosses the cloak over the bed and pretends he's not reaching for it when he falls asleep, pulling it to his face and inhaling the scent of his absent lover.

 

Loki's gone for over two months this time- 63 days, and 4 hours, actually. Tony does better with the not worrying, but he still misses Loki. It's a strange feeling. He's rarely wanted something he couldn't just make his by throwing money or tech at it, and he starts to think that's part of the reason none of his previous relationships worked out. Tony has trouble with boundaries- he sets ones that he likes and disregards the ones that other people set. He's never met someone before who had the power to force Tony to respect _their_ boundaries and it thrills him.

The longer Loki is gone the more often Tony finds himself sitting on the bed, his hand resting on the cloak, wondering what the hell would make Loki _want_ to come back. He manages to stay out of the liquor cabinet, and Bruce is surprisingly patient with him, not that Bruce has ever been anything but patient with Tony's demanding moods. Ororo's out of town too, so Tony takes advantage of getting to know Thor a bit better. If he gets any embarrassing childhood stories out of it, all to the good. He and Bruce corner Ororo's friend Kurt and have a long talk until Tony's pretty sure that he can add a teleportation upgrade to the suit. It's fascinating enough that sometimes whole days go by without him asking JARVIS if Loki is back yet.

When Loki does return, Tony finally gets a name out of him: Thanos.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soundtrack listing: "Stuck in a Moment You Can't Get Out Of" is written by Bono and The Edge and performed by U2.
> 
> Note: That Frigga is not Thor's biological mother is Earth-616 canon, I believe. I’ve only read one Thor comic, so I learned about it from Scyllaya's "Bend Around the Wind."


	3. You've Got the Teeth of the Hydra Upon You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve and Natasha search for the Winter Soldier.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I figured I should warn, this chapter ends on a bit of a downer.

 

 **Location:** Universe YOSLY, Designation: Delta  
_Washington D.C._  
_SHIELD HQ_  
_5 years and 8 months pre-anomaly_

It starts with an assassination in Sokovia. An important European politician at a peace conference, gunned down by a shadow.

Since the blow up about Loki, and officially breaking off with Tony's group, Steve's found himself more at loose ends than ever before. He wouldn't say he really _knew_ anyone from that original Avengers group except maybe Natasha, but... he misses them. Loki's invasion, Phoenix- they had a bond forged on the battlefield that Steve hadn't allowed SHIELD to come between. But Tony...  Steve had tried to find some kind of common ground with Tony- he'd tried to reach for that balance he'd had with Howard- but Tony wasn't Howard, and the situation with Loki had really been the last straw. A team who would conceal information and lie to each other isn't a team. But Steve feels even more lost now, without anything left to him of that team at all; even Natasha is now gone from SHIELD.

So he throws himself into his work with SHIELD, because this is why he's here, right? To fulfill what Peggy and Howard imagined this organization could be, to be the soldier, the force for good, that Doctor Erskine always knew he was, if Colonel Phillips would give him the chance. Just because the world has become unrecognizable doesn't mean the good fight doesn't still need to be fought. And if he fights hard enough he can fall asleep at night before dreams of the dead catch him up and refuse to let him rest.

Steve is working with a separate task force on a completely different issue, but he sits in on a briefing concerning the assassination in Sokovia. Agent Kawalsky is giving the presentation and Steve is mostly tuning him out when he turns the page of the briefing packet and there's a photograph sitting in front of him. It's dark, a little blurred, not a great angle, but Steve can see it clearly.

"An agent was able to obtain this photograph of the assassin," Kawalsky is saying. "We don't know much about him, but the agent was in close quarters with him long enough to judge it likely that he has trained with a Russian terrorist group, possibly a remnant of an old Hydra cell, due to his combat style, now-" His voice is just droning noise in the background.

Steve is staring at the photograph. He knows this man, knows intimately every line of that profile, every inch of that skin, and he is frozen, staring, because _it is impossible_. It can't be true. "Bucky," he says, the word little more than a whisper on his lips.

No one else in the briefing pays any attention, and Steve wants to stand up and shout it, demanding Kawalsky give him the answers to the questions burning through him. But he knows Kawalsky doesn't have those answers. Steve stands from his seat, several people looking up in annoyance as his chair scrapes across the floor, and he leaves the room in search of Fury.

Director Fury is in his office. Walking into Nick Fury's office isn't something someone is supposed to be able to do, but Steve marches past the people who try to stop him and slams the photograph down on Fury's desk. "Bucky," he says, and his voice is hoarse- when did that happen?- and he wants to put more words out there, sentences, explanations, but his mouth won't fit around the words and he can only stand there, a burning need in his chest that he refuses to allow anyone to deny.

Fury goes still, one eye watching Steve carefully. "Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes," he says slowly, like he wants to make sure they're talking about the same person; like Steve might be going a little bit crazy.

And Steve doesn't blame him for it. On the surface, there is nothing of Bucky in the man in the photo, dark eyed and intent. But Steve knows Bucky, has known him for almost every moment of his life that he can remember. Fury might think he's crazy but Steve _knows_ he is. His throat contracts. "I thought he was dead, my God, I... I left him there." His hands ball into fists. "I need to know who took this picture." Because if Bucky is here then there is a reason that Steve is here too, and by God no one is going to come between them again.

Fury is watching him with cold evaluation. "What's the status on your group, Captain?"

Steve waves off the question. "Carol can handle it,” is his decisive answer, and he knows she can. “This... I _need_ to know."

And Fury nods, like getting him to do what Steve wants is suddenly easy, and Steve would be wary but he can't find it in himself to care.

Fury calls Agents O'Neill and Ford into his office, and packs the three of them into a quinjet and off to Eastern Europe in less than an hour.

 

When they land in Sokovia they are met by Natasha. She matches Steve's surprised look with an amused curl of lip. "Fury didn't say whom he was sending," she says.

"I thought you broke with SHIELD," Steve says, somewhat helplessly, because he's really glad to see her.

She nods. "That doesn't mean I broke with Fury." She eyes him carefully. "Fury says you know the guy we're looking for." It's a question without being a question.

Steve nods. "It's Bucky."

Natasha stills for a moment. "James Barnes?" she repeats, a strange echo of Fury's disbelief, and Steve nods again. Natasha regards him for a moment.  "That's a hell of an accusation. What makes you think it's him?"

Steve takes a deep breath. "I _know_ him, Natasha. We... he was my best friend, all of my life. I... I barely have a memory that he _isn't_ in. I don't know how, but I know it's him."

Natasha seems to accept this. "He's working for terrorists, so I'm going to assume some brainwashing went along with the extensive training he's had." She's watching him again. "Steve," she says gently but firmly, "if Hydra got hold of him back then- what they've had to do to keep him alive... there may be nothing left of who he was."

Steve shakes his head in mute denial, and Natasha leaves it, for now. She takes the new arrivals to her camp. There's three more agents whom Fury and Natasha deemed trustworthy enough for her taskforce, and Clint, whose presence isn't exactly official. Steve's a little surprised to find Clint attached to a SHIELD mission, especially one as apparently classified as this one is, but not at all surprised to find him and Natasha in each other's shadows. From the beginning they've been living in each other's space, even with the separation enforced by their jobs and the trauma that Clint had been through; Steve's pretty sure it's a relationship deeper than romance. It's about trust- which is the most important facet in a team. It reminds him of himself and Bucky, and reminds him why Tony and SHIELD can't seem to get along. He knows Tony doesn't trust SHIELD; he's not sure why Tony thinks SHIELD should trust _Tony_.

He's not exactly mission head, so it's not like he needs to know, but Steve realizes he's not the only one missing the camaraderie that used to be when Natasha confides to him her full mission. It's more than Fury told him, and when he hears it he knows why. There have been rumors of Hydra's continued existence. Steve thought he was done with Hydra- he'd thought that he'd struck the blow that was needed to stab the beast in the heart, never mind its heads- and he would feel worse about not having ended that threat with the Red Skull if it wasn't for Bucky. If Bucky is alive, then Steve can't feel bad about anything that has brought him to the point where he can see Bucky again. Fury tasked Natasha with finding some proof of life, locations of the cells that Hydra has left scattered to the winds. And there are some artifacts from Loki's invasion that are missing from SHIELD's stores. How Hydra got ahold of them is something that interests Steve in particular, but now there's Bucky, and that is the fulcrum around which Steve's world rotates.

Natasha's team has already cleared the area in Sokovia; there is nothing left there to point to Bucky, just the whisper: Winter Soldier. The ghost that's been nothing more than a whisper at the other end of a bullet over the past decades. So they move on to the next rumored cell.

 

 

Sometimes they are in deep jungle like nothing Steve's ever seen, and sometimes they are in cities that are definitely nothing like what he knew before, but _sometimes_ Steve forgets _when_ he is: sneaking through heavy forest cover, taking out Hydra cells, the smoke and camaraderie of a small campfire, the assurance of competent soldiers at his back. But then he'll look over and see Natasha standing forward instead of Bucky at his side and remember that the world passed by as he slept.

 

Their team finds and infiltrates suspected Hydra cells, subdues and apprehends any personnel they find, and confiscates all intelligence for SHIELD. They don't tell the follow up SHIELD cleanup crews what their precise mission is, just leave them zip-tied enemy agents to haul back to Fury. Steve is surprised when he can't bring himself to care about the many level of secrecy that make up SHIELD. He's supported SHIELD since he got here, knowing that it was the group that those he'd left behind had started. SHIELD does good work, work that needs to be done, but Steve definitely disagrees with some of the ways they go about that work. He trusts that Fury has the best interests of the world in mind, but Fury is sometimes maddeningly like Tony in one way: limits and boundaries set by other people are not something to be recognized but are a challenge to be overcome. Steve's pretty sure SHIELD has grown beyond anything that Peggy and Howard imagined. Well, he's not sure he knows what Howard might have imagined.

 

Thinking about them, Steve wonders if Peggy or Howard knew, about him. Knew that there was only one person Steve had wanted in his entire life and that person's name was Bucky Barnes. Since Steve had been sixteen- since that first awkward, determined kiss he'd stolen one night when they'd been drunk, Bucky with lipstick smeared on the corner of his mouth and Steve raging with jealousy and full of the fire to _do_ something about it, the eternity of the moment after their lips met, when Bucky had sat there stunned and Steve had wondered if he'd ruined everything, and then Bucky's hand had curled around the back of his neck and Bucky had murmured, _no fucking idea what you're doing, here let me_ show _you. Damn Stevie, I had no idea, you too_ \- hell, since they'd _met_ , there had only ever been one person for Steve.

He dreams about the train- that he can feel the brush of Bucky's fingers as their hands don't quite meet. The way his eyes locked on Bucky's as he fell, and they stared into each other, until Bucky was gone, too far away to retrieve. Or so Steve had thought. He should have gone back, Steve thinks again, he should have checked.

Steve went back, to Kreischberg, after Azzano, went against orders for the 107th- an impossible rescue mission behind enemy lines. He did it because they were good men, and didn't deserve to be forgotten. But in the depth of his heart it was because he couldn't live without _knowing_ if Bucky was among the dead. Steve remembers the way hope and terror thrilled in him when he found Bucky in the isolation ward- alive, and muttering rank and serial number like a good little soldier. Steve tore his bonds from the table and hauled Bucky up against him, their hearts beating wildly against each other as he pressed his lips to Bucky's forehead. Bucky had been disoriented, confused by Steve's appearance, but he had latched on and refused to let go, refused to leave without Steve even after Schmidt tried to claim Steve as something other than human.

The escaped prisoners marched the thirty miles back to Colonel Phillip's encampment without stopping. Marched slowly perhaps, but steadily, not knowing what was coming behind them. There was little time to chat, but every opportunity he got Steve grasped Bucky's arm tightly, hoping he could communicate what couldn't be said. Just seeing Bucky again made his heart leap in his throat, and he was so filled with the thrill of the rescue being accomplished that he barely felt tired as they marched.

It was Bucky who volunteered the both of them for rearguard on the predawn shift. The darkness was heavy around them, the sounds of the men ahead dimmed, giving the illusion of privacy. Steve wanted to reach for Bucky, but found himself suddenly shy. Whenever Steve looked at Bucky he seemed dazed still, as if he wasn't sure he wasn't dreaming this escape. Steve found himself caught between wanting to steal every touch he could and the knowledge that he should wait until the other man had a meal and a good night's sleep behind him and they could talk about everything that had happened.

Out of the darkness though, Steve heard Bucky's voice. "Stevie."

He faltered a step before he started walking again. "Yeah, Buck?"

"Steve," Bucky said again, "I just..." He trailed off as they heard a distant sound above them, and both stood alert for a moment before the plane veered away in another direction. They were standing so close. Steve turned to Bucky and a shiver ran over his skin as Bucky's hand raised to cup his cheek for the briefest of moments. "You changed," Bucky breathed. "You're so different, but you're still you."

Steve leaned into the touch. "I'm me," he promised with a small grin. He wanted to ask, about Bucky and the weeks of imprisonment, if _Bucky_ was okay, still himself, but he waited and let Bucky control the conversation for the moment.

Bucky cleared his throat and asked, his voice unsteady, "I just wondered if you'd changed... how you feel about me."

Steve inhaled sharply and stepped closer, his arms going around Bucky in the darkness. "Never, Buck," he swore. "I'd never stop loving you." Bucky's hands were desperate, tangled in Steve's jacket, the helmet bumping against his forehead as he pressed his lips to Steve's. It was a different sensation, kissing Bucky when he was actually a few inches _taller_ than Bucky, but not a bad one, and the small sound of pleased affirmation Bucky made seemed to say he agreed. There wasn't time, they had a job to do, but they returned to it more comfortable with each other, and as confident in tomorrow as they could be surrounded by death and war.

They shipped back to London right after. The former POWs were debriefed and given time to recuperate. Steve told everything he could remember about Hydra to Peggy and to Colonel Phillips. When his new special unit might have dispersed, Steve asked them to join him in taking the fight to Hydra. The response was subtle but enthusiastic, and it warmed something in Steve. He was here, Bucky was here, and they had a righteous purpose going forward.

Later that night, he let Bucky steal him away, to a room with walls and a door with a deadbolt, the pub below them echoing with music. Bucky locked the door, and they fell upon each other, both eager and tentative, exploring each other, reaffirming words that had been spoken with the truth of touch.

In many ways it had all the awkwardness of a first time tryst, as Steve was uncertain as to the intimate talents of his new body, but it was also the last time they would have the privacy to fully devote themselves to each other and, over the weeks that followed Bucky's fall, that night burned its way into Steve's mind.

 

 

After a few sorties taking suspected Hydra bases around Asia, Natasha has them back in Eastern Europe- Steve's not sure where, though O'Neill swears they're spitting distance to the Latverian border- when he makes contact.

Their strike force enters the latest Hydra base not expecting much resistance; they have four teams of two scouting the building, and almost immediately Ford radios, "Secondary target sighted, I repeat, I see the Soldier." His radio goes to static then dead, but Steve is already running, running as fast as his body will let him through the corridors, dodging enemy agents who only have time to gape at him, toward the south side of the base where Ford's team was entering. He barrels around a corner in time to see the Winter Soldier take out Ford's partner, the last rat-tat of the man's sub machine rifle fading away, and Steve loses a minute just staring.

"Bucky," he says, the name torn from him involuntarily, and Steve doesn't resist the impulse to move forward.

The ghost who isn't quite Bucky looks up at him. HIs eyes are narrowed in danger assessment, his lower face masked, and he says something through the filter of the mask. At first Steve thinks he can't understand it because the filter is turning the words to nonsense, but then he realizes that the ghost is speaking Russian. Steve halts. The ghost strikes.

Steve raises his shield before him, but the ghost comes down against it hard, the ring of metal against metal sounding through the room, and the ghost's fingers are curling around the edge of the shield, gripping it. The fingers are metal, and instinct takes over before Steve can consciously respond. He lowers the shield and shoves it forward, moving to slam it into the wall, but the ghost shakes free and flips around, sinking a knife into Steve's side. The knife sinks in just below the rib cage, and starts to pull sideways, across his abdomen, when Steve blocks it with the shield. The ghost pulls the knife out and moves up a few ribs- as far as he can reach with his arm pinned under the rim of the shield- and sinks the knife in again, twisting it and pulling.

Steve manages to twist away. He's moving sluggishly, still a touch mind-blown, and now breathing raggedly. When he coughs he knows there's blood on his lips. He looks over at the ghost.

The ghost is standing, posture wide open, looking at him. He is staring at Steve, at the blood on his lips, and he looks as if he is trying to connect what he sees to a memory. Steve feels hope flare in him; _he_ wouldn’t have thought it one of the most memorable things about their life together, but the pain in his chest and the taste of blood does remind him of the year he had pneumonia so bad he almost died from it, Bucky a constant presence at his bedside. Steve steps forward now, and says again, "Bucky."

The ghost bolts, vanishing through a window. Steve tries to follow but he feels lightheaded and he already knows he's bleeding into a lung as well as all down his side. He's going to need a few minutes, but by then Bucky will be gone. He steps forward, the world going fuzzy around the edges, but he can't afford to lose him now.

"Whoa there, soldier." Natasha appears at his side. She levers him to the floor so easily he wonders how she manages it, but she is talking into her radio, pulling Steve's uniform away from his side. Clint and O'Neill are checking Ford and his partner; Davis might make it if they get him medical attention immediately, but Ford is dead.

Something in Steve twists- but it's not really Bucky's fault. The man who'd faced Steve both was and wasn't his Bucky.

 

In the handful of minutes it takes Steve to be able to run without coughing blood, Bucky's already gone without a trace. Part of Steve isn't sure if that brief glimpse was worth the search he knows he's in for now, but mostly he knows it was. As much as he told himself he knew Bucky from the photograph Natasha had taken, it's something else to see him in person, to feel it in his gut- both literally and figuratively.

 

"He tried to kill you," Clint says one night a few weeks later. They're camped in the middle of nowhere again; officially, Steve and Natasha are sharing a tent on this stop but Natasha's nowhere to be found and Clint is sitting on the edge of her bedroll, sharpening a knife. "Not only did he take out Ford and Davis like it was a Sunday morning stroll, but he seriously tried to kill _you_. I don't think there's much left of your friend in there, Rogers."

"If he'd really meant it, I'd be dead." Steve takes offense at Clint's cynicism; he's pretty sure he can read Clint's offence at what Clint sees as Steve's naiveté. "You didn't see his face," which has been Steve's default argument the last six times they've had this conversation. "He knew me. He remembers me." And Steve says something he's never said before when he adds, "I thought _you'd_ understand."

Clint tenses, the knife blade making an unnatural sound as it grinds hard against the whetstone. He doesn't look up, keeping his eyes fixed on the knife. For a few moments he doesn't move, it doesn't even look like he's breathing, until he does draw in a slow, deep, measured breath. "I understand," he says slowly, the words clipped and brittle, "that what you remember and what you can _fucking do about it_ are extremely different things. And I think that having a gang of psychos shoving shit in your head doesn't get easier to fight after _seventy years_." The last is said almost cruelly, but Steve stuck his fingers in the wound first so he can't really be mad about it. Or, he planned not to be mad but he can't sit there with the image in his head: all those years he slept forgotten under ice, and he imagines Bucky stuck as Hydra's plaything. He wants so badly to make it not be true. But he can't. So he gets up and he leaves. He doesn't return to the tent that night, but that's not terribly unusual and he and Dex spend the predawn hours drinking terrible coffee and glowering silently, which has become something of a ritual between them.

The next day Natasha gives him dirty looks and he gets the feeling she would leave him behind if she thought she could get away with it. But Natasha is smart; he's pretty sure she knows why he won't give up on Bucky, every detail of why, even though he's never said a word. Steve knows that how he feels about Bucky is something that he can talk about in the world now. He's seen it on the television, on the street- hell, even when the truth came out about Tony and Loki, Steve's pretty sure he was the only one who was more surprised that Tony was intimately attached to a man rather than the fact that it was Loki. But it's still something private to Steve, and he won't talk about it when he's not even certain Bucky still wants what they shared before.

Natasha's mad at him, so she shows him the information she's gathered, mostly supplemented by a file she found at their last stop. He's not sure if he wants to thank her or beat her over the head with the tablet she gave him. He does weep silently while he reads it in their tent, but not even Clint makes a comment. The things they did to Bucky, to make him be what they wanted him to be... Steve already has trouble sleeping. This doesn't help.

 

It's another month of searching before they get close again. Steve wants to kiss Natasha when she does get them close- he knows it's all her getting the information and that without her he'd be lost, not knowing where to begin looking. They've crossed over into true Russia- O'Neill is arguing with Dex about where exactly- and they're taking out the Hydra cell they found. This cell was startlingly easy to overcome, and when they breach the main base what they find fuels Steve's anger, and his hope.

Steve is the first one through the interior door, flanked by O'Neill and Dex. There are dead scientists littering the floor and pinned to the walls; it seems like a lot at first, because of all the blood, but there's only really five bodies. Then Steve steps around the corner. There's an army Marshal pinned to some sort of a chair, a rod thrust through his chest holding him to the surface beneath him. The machinery in the room is trashed. Steve can almost read the path of rebellion and assertion of will as he follows it around the room, and he is thrilled beyond words- Bucky is in there, still, and he's fighting Hdyra's control. But then Steve realizes that what's rising in his chest is bile. The smell of blood and internal organs is cloying. The chair, with its straps to hold someone down, is more horrifying in person than it was in the file. The arms have been broken off of it, the straps torn, and the Marshal is sitting, in wide-eyed surprise, pinned to the center of it like a fly on a board. Steve is viciously glad that Bucky was able to strike back in this way, even if the horror of the room itself is overwhelming. Steve has to leave, and he fights his way back outside, to where he can see the sky and the grass in the wind.

"Buck," he says, though he's certain the object of his quest is miles and miles away by now. "I'm coming for you, Buck, I'm not going to stop, and I'm not going to let them hurt you again." It's a vow made to the air, and afterward Steve feels silly.

But that night Steve feels eyes upon him when he takes his turn at watch.

The next morning after they finish cleanup it's a long hike back to where they left the quinjet, and Steve's neck itches the whole way from the feeling of someone watching him. Natasha keeps glancing his way when he rubs his neck, like she knows.

There's still plenty of daylight left, but when they reach the quinjet Natasha tells them to make camp for the night, saying something about how they can't fly out until tomorrow. The weather is perfect and they forego setting up tents; Natasha and Clint are talking softly, Dex is making coffee on the camp stove, and Carter and O'Neill sneak off behind some trees for privacy. Steve's not a big sleeper, but he doesn't have watch until later so he sits facing the forest and thinks, eventually dozing off.

It's full dark when something startles him awake. He opens his eyes, and there is someone sitting in front of him. Not close enough to touch, but close enough that Steve can make out his features. The mask he wore over his face the last time they met is gone now; there is a dark streak across his cheek that could be blood but it's hard to tell. "Buck," Steve breathes. "Oh, Bucky, thank God."

The ghost is as tense as a wild animal and Steve has to keep himself from reaching, so he just looks at the man sitting across from him.

His eyes roam constantly over the camp behind Steve, taking in everything from the sleeping bodies to the pacing watchmen; he is tucked up under a bush, motionless except for his eyes. The only place they do rest is on Steve, as if all they want to do is look at Steve, but also as if Steve is the most terrifying thing in the universe.

Steve tries to swallow, but his throat is closed. "Bucky," he manages to croak out, and the ghost tenses. "Whatever you want," Steve says, meaning it with his whole heart. "Anything you need; I'll give it to you."

The ghost's eyes are startled, and they rest on Steve for the longest period yet. The ghost speaks, but the words mean nothing to Steve and his heart twists.

"I don't understand, Buck, but if you can find a way to make me understand, I'll do it, I'll get you whatever." He manages to swallow. "Can you write it down? I'll get Natasha to read it to me. Buck, I..." His hands are fisted with the force of not letting himself grab Bucky and pull the other man against him.

The ghost cocks his head, eyeing Steve carefully. "Stevie," he says, voice low and uncertain.

Steve jumps, he can't help it, and the movement startles the ghost back into the underbrush. He's gone and Steve has to turn and grip the tree behind him to give himself something to hold on to, to ground him, so that he doesn't go running after and chase Bucky further away.

Natasha's up with the dawn, ready to move their company out, when Steve asks to stay for a few days. "Why?" she asks, but he feels like she already knows.

"Bucky's here. I... I saw him last night. I'm going to stay, to try to make contact again." He levels his gaze at her. It's not actually a request.

Dex protests that Steve can't stay out here alone and O'Neill seconds that they don't leave men behind. Natasha grins; Steve outranks her, technically, but this was her operation. "Clint, take the team back to base for now," she says. "Having all of you here will compromise the mission." Clint narrows his eyes but nods. The others grumble a bit but being ordered to return to civilization after months on assignment isn't such a hardship as long as they know the mission is proceeding.

Steve and Natasha stay at the landing site for three days before Clint returns for them. Steve doesn't see Bucky again. He leaves food under the bush where he did see the ghost; it's always gone, but that doesn't mean anything. He has a sketchpad he keeps in his pocket and, on a whim, he leaves it under the bush, too. There's only a few drawings, but most of them are of Bucky, and Brooklyn, and Steve has a crazy thought that it'll help him remember. This is the last night before Clint is to return and Steve is a little desperate for further contact.

Clint arrives and Steve almost wants to send him and Natasha away, to stay here and search the entire forest by foot if need be. But when he goes back to the bush there is something fluttering in the wind, tangled in its branches. Steve pulls the piece of paper loose and holds it, heart in his throat. There are words written on it that he can't read. The rest of the sketchbook is gone. Steve runs back to the quinjet and hands the paper to Natasha wordlessly.

She reads, her eyebrows shooting up her face. She says something under her breath. Clint touches her arm. Steve breathes impatiently.

"It says, 'Mission, reassigned. Fulfill mission parameters.'" Natasha looks at Steve. "Does that mean anything to you?"

Steve starts to shake his head, but stops. "I told him to tell me what he wants. Whatever he wants and I'll try to get it for him. But... what are the mission parameters?" Steve sighs. "You go ahead. I'll wait and ask him for more."

Natasha rolls her eyes. "And then what? You going to sit here in the wilderness forever, trading notes with a shadow?"

Steve bristles. "Yes, if that's what it takes."

It's Clint who breaks the stalemate. "If you sit here waiting for him you'll be making a liar out of yourself, Rogers."

Steve stills. "What?"

"'Fulfill mission parameters,'" Clint repeats. "That's what he wants. You said you'd help him get that. You aren't going to be helping him fill anything out here. If you had a soldier on a mission, what would you do to help him fulfill that mission?"

Steve frowns. "Lines of communication. Supply equipment and backup as necessary." He hates it, but he sees where Clint is going with this. He sighs. "He won't hardly talk to me, Barton. How can I maintain communication?"

Clint's chin comes up and he's not quite looking at Steve. "Just because he's not talking doesn't mean he's not listening." He pulls out his old Starkphone they were all issued back when they were Avengers and waves it at the forest around them. "This has a satellite link, you can reach Steve anywhere in the world. And you can thank Tasha for the Russian emojis." He waves it again for good measure then sets it on a rock. "Send him your number, Rogers. Tasha and I'll unload the quinjet."

Steve pulls out his own phone and scrolls down until he finds Clint's number. He presses the call button and watches in odd fascination as the object on the rock vibrates its way across that surface. Clint's voice says succinctly, "Do it," and the message beep sounds. Steve clears his throat. "Hey Buck." He trails off, but musters his courage, closes his eyes and just talks. "I hope this is what you wanted. You were a little cryptic, so I'm not sure, but I think Clint's right and this... this will help you.

"I know you... you've been through a lot Buck, but I never want you to think that any of it could make me stop loving you because that'll never happen. I don't care what they did, or what you've done... I mean, I do, I care, but... it doesn't change the way I feel. I love you, Bucky. I always have. I always will. If... if you don't want me to bother you anymore I guess... I guess I'm pretty sure you don't want that or you wouldn't have shown up the other night. But if you do I guess just let me know. Or vanish again, but I'd probably come find you then."

Steve clears his throat. "Anyway, you can call me any time. Or not. Send me a message, that's fine, too. Anything you need. Anything you want." Steve chuckles. "I suppose I sound kind of desperate, but... I thought you were dead, Bucky. I'm... It might be selfish, but I'm so glad you're not." The message beeps that it's reached its length and Steve disconnects.

Natasha and Clint have loaded rations, weapons, and other supplies into two duffle bags, and they leave them on the ground beside the rock with the phone. It's hard to walk away, but Steve gets in the quinjet. He watches back as long as he can, but he doesn't catch another glimpse of Bucky.

 

 

They rejoin the rest of their squad and take a couple of days of R&R before heading back into the field. Their secondary objective may have been accomplished, in a way, but there are still Hydra outposts that need to be taken out, and there's the matter of the stolen equipment Natasha's still looking for.

Steve throws himself back into the work, but even if he doesn't work himself to exhaustion he finds that the nightmares aren't quite as quick to follow him into sleep. He lays in his bedroll sometimes, phone in hand, and thinks about calling Bucky. When he does call, there is never an answer. He manages to only call about one-third of the times he thinks about calling; he doesn't want the messages to get annoying.

"Hey, Buck. Guess I just wanted to make sure you got the phone and everything. Hope you're doing okay."

"You know how to use a phone right? I didn't even think about that. I'm sure you know way more than me. ... If not, please find someone to show you."

"You can call Natasha if you don't want to talk to me. It might be easier. Maybe? I don't know. Bucky, I... Anyway, I'm sure her number's in there."

"I was just thinking today, wondering how you're getting around. I'm sure you're not ranging quite as far as us- we were in Brazil yesterday, and I think I heard Natasha mention Nepal."

"Hey Buck, I... I just wanted to...  The fighting was pretty intense today and I just wanted to let you know I was okay. I... How are you?"

"I sent you a photograph of a field we saw. It reminded me of that little town outside of Augsburg, in '43.  I don't know what you remember, but... Anyway, we would tease each other, all of us in the Howlers. It went on all the time, didn't matter that I was a Captain, I guess it lightened the load. But this one time we walked by a field like that one and you picked a huge bouquet of daisies and left them all over my tent, so it reminded me of you. I hope you got the photograph."

"Do you need more food? I didn't even look at what Natasha and Clint packed for you. I read- I mean, I know you're- I'm sure you get hungry a lot, I know I do. Please let me know if you need anything."

 

It's been one month, one week, and four days. Because he's stopped allowing himself to consciously hope for a response, Steve is waiting for the day the phone tells him "mailbox full." It continues to not arrive. He wonders if that means Bucky got the phone. He wonders if that means Bucky's been deleting his messages without listening to them. But there's still room for his words so Steve keeps leaving them, praying that they're helping. There is no response. Steve hopes also that Bucky's "mission" will somehow coincide with the team's, but so far nothing.

 

It's been one month, three weeks, and six days. Steve's phone pings softly, "message received."

It's such an odd occurrence that Steve doesn't react at first. He's sitting in his and Dex's tent- they've stopped pretending that Clint isn't a part of the mission, and he officially shares with Natasha now, Steve with Dex, and O'Neill and Carter in the third tent- checking his gear. It takes him a minute before he reaches over and picks up the phone. He has a message from Clint. It's a set of coordinates.

He's tired, and it takes him another minute before he fully remembers that "Clint" is Bucky. The knowledge runs through him like a livewire, and he stands and demands that Dex get out the GPS.

They look up the coordinates, and they have to run and wake Natasha because Steve's pretty sure it's the location of a Hydra cell that they've overlooked. His heart is in his throat; it's like finding Bucky all over, seeing him for the first time again. It might be just the fluttering contact of a ghost, but Steve grabs on and holds tightly.

 

They scope out the location. It's one of the most active cells they've seen yet, and Natasha is annoyed that they haven't heard about it before. They have to retreat to a safe distance for her to call it in on Fury's encrypted line. Fury is going to send them back up and they aren't to move forward until it arrives.

Steve feels his phone vibrate with another message. He pulls it out and turns the screen to Natasha. It says "1100."

Natasha grimaces. "Everyone sharp, move out. It would appear _we_ are the backup." They set off through the thick undergrowth; the anticipation of battle makes them move differently, more fluidly, attention sharp for opposition. They are in position in plenty of time. At exactly 1100 hours, the base's armory explodes.

Natasha predicted that Bucky would use that precise tactic, and Steve feels exhilarated because that means he's in the right spot. They're in pairs again, which means that Dex is watching Steve's six and they are the team closest to the armory. Steve goes racing into the fiery heat of it and finds the ghost, sticking a knife into the chest of a Hydra goon. There's another one sneaking up behind him, and Steve throws his shield. The ghost watches him with it like it means something to him, but he whirls and attacks another Hydra agent. Steve fights his way to the ghost's side; Dex hangs back and covers them.

The adrenaline is pumping in him and Steve takes great pleasure in pounding Hydra agents with his fists. He settles into the flow of combat- he strikes, he ducks a blow, he throws his shield. He keeps an eye on the ghost, but he really doesn't need to. Bucky is at his back like he's never been anywhere else and they move together like a well-oiled machine. Steve steps forward to throw his shield, and Bucky is at his side intercepting another agent's knife against his metal arm; Steve steps back and kicks a rifle out of an agent's hand. Bucky catches the shield out of the air and tosses it to Steve; their eyes meet for a moment, and Steve's heart sings.

In a few minutes it's over. They've moved inside the building, away from the armory and into what looks like a basement. The area is clear; Natasha says over Steve's comm that Fury's back-up has arrived and the rest of the base is quickly becoming secure. Steve turns and looks at Bucky.

Bucky is watching him with a questioning look in his eyes. He swallows and looks away. Steve steps forward; he doesn't think he is physically capable of letting Bucky leave again without him.

Dex steps out into the room, and Steve completely forgot the other man was there. Bucky is watching Dex carefully, like he's preparing to take him down. Steve has to fight the urge to step between them; he doesn't want Bucky to kill anyone else, and he's slightly chagrinned that he immediately assumes such an outcome even though Dex is both an extremely competent soldier and also one of the few people Steve's met who can still make him feel short even post-serum.

But Dex isn't stupid either. His eyes pass over them both but his feet carry him away, toward the rest of the base. "You two need to talk," Dex says, succinctly. "I'll start searching the rest of this floor and keep the relief team from coming down this way." Steve nods tightly in acknowledgement as Dex walks away.

And it's just him and Bucky, and Steve's heart is in his throat and he can barely talk. "Did you do it?" he manages to croak. Bucky looks at him sharply; concern and worry are heavy lines on his face, lines worn there long before the war that brought them back together and then tore them apart for the second time. "Did you complete the mission?" Steve asks, because he wants, even more than his own selfishness, for Bucky to get what he wants.

The heavy lines on Bucky's face smooth out. His metal fist clenches. "Yes," he says. He looks at Steve sideways, through the curtain of his hair. Steve looks back, and their eyes are caught. Steve can see the fear on Bucky's face and he wants, more than anything, to reach over and smooth it away. He clenches his own hands into fists and he can feel the muscles in his jaw working.

Steve is so angry, at anyone who's ever hurt Bucky, at the world in general for letting Bucky be hurt, that he almost misses the way Bucky's fist starts to relax and his mouth curves in a sardonic smile. "You look like you," Bucky says, his voice little more than a whisper. "I mean, you've got that look on your face, like you're going to try to take on some bully twice your size and get your ass pummeled in the process. Stevie." There is such longing and sorrow in Steve's name on his lips and he looks away.

Steve steps forward. He's close enough he could reach out and touch Bucky. "You changed," he says, and he feels Bucky stiffen. "You changed, but you're still you." He hears Buck suck in a gasped breath. Steve wets his lips. "I guess I just wondered if you've changed... how you feel about me."

The air comes whistling out of Bucky's mouth in a sob. "Never," he swears. "Steve, I..." He's shaking, and Steve steps the half step nearer that lets him wrap his arms around Bucky and pull him close. "How can you?" Bucky asks, his forehead pressed into Steve's shoulder and his arms are as tight around Steve as Steve's are around him. "I'm barely me anymore."

Steve shakes his head. "You're you," he says like a promise. "You're real. Anything they made you do wasn't your choice, and it's not your fault."

Bucky goes rigid in his arms and his head comes up. "What do you know," he hisses and struggles against Steve's hold.

"They forced you to do it and they punished you if you refused. It wasn't you." Steve opens his arms and releases Bucky, who shoves him away.

Steve goes stumbling back a few steps, giving a small woof as the breath is shoved out of him by the imprint of a metal hand against his sternum, and Bucky's face goes suddenly lax as he realizes what he's done. He turns to run. Steve sweeps his legs out from under him and tries to tackle him to the ground, but Bucky flips them so that Steve lands on the bottom, Bucky leaning over him, wild eyes staring down at him.

Bucky leans down, his breath ghosting over Steve's lips. "I can't stay. I'm going to hurt you. I can't... They broke me, but I won't hurt you. I won't." He pulls back, but Steve has his fingers twined with Bucky's and refuses to release him.

"Don't leave," Steve says; he'll admit it comes out more like begging. "Please, let me help. Buck, I... I'll do anything for you, but please, let me be there, with you. I was so alone in this time, and when I knew that you were here too it made me realize I was here for a reason. Please."

They're still on the ground, Bucky sitting on top of Steve. Bucky is staring at Steve, fear in his eyes, but he sighs and leans forward, resting his forehead against Steve's.

"This is a bad idea," Bucky says, and he sounds so like himself in that moment- Steve could close his eyes and picture them in Brooklyn, Bucky's crooked grin staring back at him.

"Yeah," Steve says, and grins back.

 

They stay there for what feels like a long time.

The main door to the room shoves open with a shriek of metal and Bucky tenses, turning to look at it warily. He's still sitting on Steve; when the door opens he moves to shove Steve beneath him, his left arm shielding them, even as Steve moves to snatch his shield off the floor and raise it between them and the threat.

Clint looks down at them, one eyebrow cocked. "Seriously? We're on company time, in the middle of hostile territory. Get laid later."

Steve kind of wants to hit him. Bucky starts laughing. Steve is so surprised he almost drops the shield completely.

"What, you jealous?" Bucky taunts.

Clint grins like an entire pack of wolves. "Buddy, I _invented_ turning Russian assassins back from the dark side. You owe me royalties." He winks. Bucky laughs.

Steve just sits there, gaping like a fish. Bucky turns to him and grins at his expression, but then sobers. "I should go. Before anyone else sees me."

Steve clenches his fingers in Bucky's jacket but sighs. He doesn't like it, but he agrees.

Clint rolls his eyes at them again. "Meet us at our camp; we leave at 0700 tomorrow." He doesn't ask if Bucky knows where that is, just turns and leaves, like he can't be bothered to help them more than he already has.

Bucky turns back to Steve, reaching out a hand to touch Steve's face. He looks at Steve for a long moment, almost as if he's looking through him, at something else. But he pulls back his hand and smiles a small, quick smile, and then he's up and running through the dark room.

Watching him go is like a physical ache in Steve's chest. He pulls himself up from the floor slowly, and it's as if he can feel every year his body has been alive weighing him down. He sits for a moment before he pushes all the way to his feet and goes after Clint.

They lingered too long and the former Hydra base is swarmed with SHIELD agents- the backup that Fury promised along with their usual clean up team. Steve pauses to wonder how on earth Bucky's going to get out of this without killing anyone, and he refuses to let himself think about the alternative. Bucky is himself, he remembers himself; whatever he's done in the past he doesn't do that anymore.

The great thing about Natasha being in charge of this mission is that Steve doesn't have to report to anyone else, and Natasha can read him like a book without him speaking a single word. She eyes Steve, asks if he requires medical attention, and then moves on. Steve rejoins Dex and Carter. Dex gives Steve a questioning look which Steve answers with a shrug, and that seems to be enough for the moment. Of their team, O'Neill is the only one who suffered a major injury; while not life threatening, he was shot in the leg and will be returning to base with the other SHIELD personnel for the time being. When Natasha is finished handing over the location, the rest of their team retreats to their camp for a few hours’ sleep before they head for their next destination.

 

The camp is so well hidden Steve wonders how Clint leads their way so unerringly; and takes a moment to worry about Bucky finding them. Not being able to look over and see Bucky is harder to deal with than Steve thought it would be after their camaraderie fighting beside each other in the base. When they reach the camp, Steve stands for a few minutes, searching the trees around them.

Dex is the first one in their tent, and he pops back out a few moments later, his gear in hand. "I'm going to keep Carter company," he says, and walks away without waiting for a response.

Steve frowns but, though it's a bit odd, he can't think of a reason not to take the statement at face value. He steps into their tent; it's small enough that he only has to step in the doorway and he's already kicking the end of his bedroll. But he connects with someone's boots already lying on his bedroll. Steve lets his eyes raise up and tries and utterly fails to keep the grin from his face when he takes in Bucky lying there, watching him.

Bucky is playing with a knife and he looks nervous. Steve falls to his knees and reaches for Bucky, wrapping his arms around the other man.

Steve has his face buried in Bucky's neck, holding him tightly, but they're both still wearing combat gear so it doesn't last as long as he wants it to before they're both shifting uncomfortably. He releases Bucky from the hug, reaching up to cup his face and stare at him, drinking him in. Bucky looks away, uncomfortable, and Steve releases him. "I've been looking for you for months now, but I almost can't believe you're really here." He reaches out again to touch and he takes Bucky's right hand in between his and takes off the gloves he's wearing so their hands are skin to skin. "It's almost too perfect to believe."

And Bucky tenses, something dark passing over his face, and Steve immediately says, "I'm sorry. God, I'm sorry. I should have gone back, I should have looked for you, then, I should never have...." And Bucky's left hand, fingers barely brushing against his lips, silences him.

"It's no good. What should have been." Bucky's voice is low and rough. He blinks and looks at Steve. "You're here. I... I'm here." His right hand clenches at Steve's, their fingers intertwining.

Steve nods. As long as Bucky is here, in front of him, speaking to him, the past that tried to pull them apart is insignificant. But there is a reserve and mask of tragedy to Bucky's eyes that has Steve still waiting, still tense. So he says, "You listened... to my messages, right? You know there's nothing that can stop me loving you." Nothing Bucky could do or that could be done to him, but Steve doesn’t think he has to spell it out.

Bucky smiles his old _what am I going to do with you?_ wry sort of smile that he often had after pulling Steve out of a fight that Steve would start knowing he couldn't win. "I know, Stevie," he says quietly. He looks away. "It's not..." He sighs. "No one else is going to care. They're only going to see what I did." He looks at Steve searchingly.

Steve feels the muscles in his jaw clench. "Did? What you _did_ was stand at my side through the war. We took down Hydra, we saved lives, we won their war, and I am _not_ going to let them forget that you are a _hero_." He knows he's breathing hard and his hands are clenched, like he's fighting that battle now- SHIELD, the press, the _world_ , he will fight them all for Bucky.

"Damn, Stevie." Bucky grins. "I forgot." He leans in, his fingers hesitating a moment before he lays them against Steve's face. He brushes them up past Steve's eyes to push his hair back from his forehead. "I forgot just how much of a stubborn ass you are." The darkness passes through his eyes for a moment. "I should stop you. I shouldn't let you try to defend me." He silences Steve's protest with the press of fingers to lips. "But I, of all people, should know that nothing stops you from fighting the battles you decide to fight. Not even the probability of failure." The darkness is chased away with something warm. "I dreamed about you coming for me. In the beginning, I thought you would." Steve closes his eyes. "And now... that dream is happening around me, so real I can't doubt it, but... it's still a dream. You can't really be here." His hands are cupping Steve's face, one warm and rough the other cool and hard. "But you are. You are." He leans forward, pressing their foreheads together. Steve rests a hand at the back of Bucky's neck.

 

  
In the morning they walk out of the tent together. Natasha and Clint are sitting next to a small fire drinking instant coffee and they look up. Steve feels Bucky tense beside him. Natasha's eyes roam the pair of them and she stands. She says something in Russian and Bucky flinches before he answers her, haltingly. She nods and glances at Steve. "You've got twenty minutes to pack your gear." And she walks away.

Dex must have told Carter something last night because she barely twitches when Steve leads the newest member of their team to the departure point. She holds out her hand and says, "Sam Carter."

Bucky takes it. "Bucky Barnes," he says, tasting the name like he's not sure it's still his, and she nods. Steve hovers and tries not to look too worried. Carter and Dex weren't really close with Ford but Steve knows it can't be easy accepting the man who killed their teammate as part of their team. Carter seems resolved to be professional. Dex just looks sardonic; Steve's shared enough brooding coffee moments with the man to know there's a touch of betrayal in his own history.

Bucky and Clint hit it off in a way that Steve knows he should have seem coming. They are incorrigible, and only Natasha has any hope of controlling them.

The team moves south and east in search of Hydra.

 

 

Bucky is doing well, Steve thinks. He has rare episodes of disorientation, usually when woken from a deep sleep, and, once, he actually attacks Dex with a knife. Thankfully no serious injuries result, though Bucky withdraws from the group for a few days, spending all extra time in his and Steve's tent.

Steve doesn't ask for anything more than to wake every morning wrapped around Bucky like a limpet, and Bucky doesn't seem to mind. Steve hadn't realized just how lonely the future had been until Bucky was here beside him again. There is a warmth in his lips that has them curving into a smile more often than they did before.

All Bucky asks for is to destroy Hydra agents. Between Bucky and Natasha, by the time they're done Steve doesn't think there'll be a single Hydra agent left in the entirety of the world with more than two limbs connected. Their intensity is a little overwhelming, but Steve hangs on. He's not letting go of this again. He and Bucky are a team, and he lets Bucky take point now, guarding his six ferociously.

 

"Why did you leave?" Steve asks one night as they lay wrapped around each other, listening to the soft murmur of Dex and Carter talking softly while on watch.

"What do you mean?" Bucky says hesitantly.

"When I saw you, sitting in that bush. You said my name, and then you ran. I waited for days for you to come back. You never did, but you were there."

Bucky is silent for a long time. Steve would almost think he'd fallen asleep, but he's tracing the fingers of his right hand slowly up and down the inside of Steve's arm.

"I remembered you," he says finally. "But I didn't know what it meant. Still don't, maybe. I remember you, but I don't... I don't remember _why_."

Steve frowns. "Because I knew you, Buck. Before... Before the war, we knew each other." He's not sure he understands how this works for Bucky, and he's so afraid of getting it wrong.

Bucky's fingers still against his skin. "I don't remember my mother," he says, voice flat.

Steve presses his face into the back of Bucky's neck. "I'm sorry."

Bucky shakes his head. "That's not... I remember you, Steve. That's what I mean. I remember you."

And Steve gets it- that Hydra tried to strip everything away from this body that reminded it that it was human, but they couldn't take away the bond that Bucky and he shared. As much as they burned away, the root was still there underneath, waiting to grow back.

Steve has his face hidden against the back of Bucky's shirt and he knows he's crying, the fabric growing damp. He clears his throat. "That made it worse for you. Made them harder on you." His right arm is flung over Bucky, pulling him close. "I'm sorry." And he says it differently this time, because he really isn't.

Bucky's right hand finds his and their fingers match against each other for a moment before interlocking. "I'm not," Bucky says, his voice heavy and sardonic, and Steve's arms tighten.

 

 

It's a few days later and as they walk down a forest path Bucky stops suddenly. He reaches down and plucks a flower from the greenery along the path that their companions have trudged before them, and stares at it.

Steve’s a little annoyed, because they’re in the middle of nowhere and there are people who want to shoot at them headed their way and they should keep moving, but he takes a deep breath and tries to focus on what Bucky’s doing.

And the breath catches in his throat as he sees it too. He swallows. "Violets were your Ma's favorite." What Bucky’s holding isn’t exactly a violet, but it’s close enough that Steve _sees_ it, sees how maybe a memory a bit more smudged than his would catch on the color amid trampled weeds and fixate on it.

Bucky is staring at the flower, a little wild-eyed. "I remember," he murmurs. "On the windowsill."

Steve squeezes his shoulder.

And Bucky drops the flower and they return to the path, and neither of them mention it again even though Steve’s heart is beating faster with hope.

 

 

They're comfortable with each other physically, and Steve hasn't pressed for anything else.

But... if Bucky is remembering more, has always remembered him, Steve wonders if Bucky remembers _everything_ they were to each other. Steve has said that he loves Bucky, and Bucky has accepted his words and his physical closeness, but has never initiated anything more intimate. So Steve doesn't either.

That night that Steve first asked, and they discussed what Bucky might or might not remember, seemed to open something for Bucky, because it's the night after and as they spread out their bedrolls Bucky turns to Steve and catches Steve's face against his right hand, turning Steve toward him until their lips meet.

Steve melts into the taste of Bucky's lips. He could stay here, in this moment, for a very long time and be perfectly content.

Bucky pulls away first, his eyes immediately seeking Steve's as if to gauge Steve's response.

Steve smiles. "That was nice, Buck."

Bucky looks relieved. "Not sure I remembered how it goes," he murmurs, and he leans in and kisses Steve again.

Steve isn't a sexual person, by nature first though also by upbringing; Bucky was usually the leader when it came to their private explorations. But Steve feels giddy now with lust as he kisses Bucky back with joyous enthusiasm. He traces lines of muscle and metal up Bucky's arms, pressing kisses to the curve of Bucky's throat, a hard pectoral, the dip of his spine. Bucky shivers, his hands reaching for Steve in a way that assures Steve that Bucky _does_ remember everything they have always been to each other.

 

But Bucky has certain reservations. "I could hurt you," he whispers.

Steve presses a kiss to the palm of the metal hand. The fingers are curled around his jaw. "No."

Bucky shakes his head, grinning. "You stubborn fool." He kisses Steve, pushes him back against his bedroll, his right hand tracing the length of Steve's growing erection through the material of his briefs. His moves are lazy, slow, and Steve burns for him so deliciously.

 

"You know, they'll come for me, if we don't get them all first," Bucky says, after. They've never spoken of this before. He presses his face to the curve of Steve's shoulder. "Dammit, Stevie, I don't want to hurt you. Promise me you won't let me hurt you."

Steve takes Bucky's right hand between both of his and kisses each of his fingers. "You will never hurt me," he promises, but they both know they are making different promises.

 

 

When it happens, it's worse than he imagined it could be, losing Bucky again, worse than it was the first time.

They are engaged with a Hydra cell that was reported to them by Natasha's intel. This is a huge cell, based in a castle, and there is heavy resistance. They were supposed to be waiting for backup again, but when they saw the hostiles about to mobilize and head out there wasn't really any choice but to try to stop them.  As Steve and Buck take the left flank they are set upon by a battalion of soldiers with covering fire from shielded gunner positions and they fall into their usual routine, the shield flying between them.

The Hydra agents are led by a tall, slender man who smirks as he slips past his own men and approaches them. He heads straight for Bucky, which Steve later will think was suspicious but which doesn't seem so at the time.

The man speaks. His words are meaningless to Steve- Russian, he thinks- but Bucky comes to a halt like his strings have been cut. Dread clutches at Steve's stomach.

"No," Steve whispers, and he's fighting his way to Bucky's side. His hand grasps at Bucky's shoulder. Bucky whirls to face him; his eyes are wide, unseeing, manic. "Bucky," Steve says, claiming, desperate. And Bucky blinks, awareness of Steve seeming to come over him, Steve can see the recognition in his eyes. But Steve wasn't watching the slender man, and he is completely taken by surprise by an attack from behind.

The force of the blow throws Steve to the side. He's pretty sure he has multiple broken ribs and internal bleeding; a hand pressed to his abdomen comes away bloody. He looks up from the ground as the slender man says the words again, Bucky falling in obediently. Then the slender man is joined by his compatriot who is holding a familiar device. It's the spear, from Loki's invasion, and Steve can hear the angry words of denial falling from his lips as the spear touches Bucky's heart.

But no one is listening to him, and when Bucky turns back to him his eyes are empty and focused. Steve struggles up from the ground and throws himself into the fight, matching the ghost blow for blow, at first. _It's Bucky_ , he tells himself, _he remembered before, he can remember again._ But there is even less of the man he loves in the face that looks at him now than there was in that compound near Latveria and Steve's anger takes a blow from a huge surge of hopelessness. "Why can't they leave us alone, Buck?" he asks, but no one is listening to him.

Steve wonders how long the two of them might fight this out, but they are interrupted by the arrival of Fury with backup. The slender man's compatriot gestures, and Bucky turns and follows as they disappear around the edge of the castle. Steve wants to follow them, but his leg isn't holding his weight. He can hear a helicopter in the distance, until the sound is buried under the roar of a firestorm headed his way.

 

When Steve regains consciousness it's to Natasha sitting beside him. He can hear Fury, somewhere out of his sightline, berating them. "So you found the stolen equipment, but not only did you _not_ get ahold of it, Hydra used it to re-suborn one of your soldiers? Romanov, I expect better results from you." he continues in this vein, and Steve lies there, numb. He's not sure if Fury can tell he's awake, and he doesn't care. _Bucky. God, I failed you again._ Steve is overwhelmed by his need to not let this happen. He needs to find Bucky again.

At some point Fury is gone. Steve wonders if he blacked out for a few minutes.

Natasha is looking down at him, her face grim. "I'm going to tell you this now, so that you have time to adjust before your leg finishes setting and you're capable of trying to follow him. Barnes is gone."

Steve feels like those words are eating his soul.

"Steve." Natasha leans in and grips his arm urgently. "You won't gain anything by following him." He's not looking at her and she slaps him to get his attention.

"Ouch." Steve tries to rub his jaw but moving is more painful than he remembers it being since the serum.

"Be smart about it Steve," Natasha continues, ignoring his pain. Or maybe she's not. Maybe she does understand that going after Bucky is not optional for him. "We can get him back, but you can't follow him now."

"Okay," Steve says after a moment. He's not really agreeing so much as acknowledging that this is her opinion.

Natasha looks surprised, but then she smiles the most beautiful expression Steve has ever seen on her face. She touches his arm again and nods. "We'll get him back," she promises. She leans in, leans against him for a moment, and he feels her leaning on him for strength. "I just got Clint back. I got you back. We'll get him back, Steve."

She is determined, and for the first time Steve thinks he isn't alone in this fight. "We will," he agrees.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soundtrack listing: "Bang a Gong [Get It On]" is written by Marc Bolan and performed by T. Rex.  
> (Probably the most overall thematically inconsistent of the songs I've used, but I couldn't pass up that single perfect line.)
> 
> Notes:  
> \- In the CATFA movie people seem to listen to and address Steve like "Captain" is his actual rank. So, I just kind of went with that though I don't think it's ever addressed specifically.  
> \- If any fans of Stargate are reading this series they might notice a few familiar names: All of my original character support staff are named after characters from _Stargate SG1_ and _Stargate Atlantis_. This includes most of the random scientists and doctors who show up in the world of OOOT and everyone in this chapter who works for SHIELD (who isn't Fury, or Natasha, or Steve, obviously). I realized as I was proofreading this chapter that this could cause some confusion, as Samantha Carter has the same last name as Peggy and Sharon Carter, but... Peggy's obviously not running around with a commando team in 2014 and the idea of Sharon/Steve creeps me out honestly, so even though I like her okay on her own you will not find Sharon in any part of this story.


	4. You and Me, We're Invincible Together

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Darcy details her version of recent events, as it overlaps with Tony's, and her relationship with Bruce.

 

 **Location:** Universe YOSLY, Designation Delta  
New York  
_Stark Tower, R &D level 9_  
_6 years & 9 months pre-anomaly_

It's not "love at first sight" or anything. Not for Darcy, anyway.

The first time she sees him he has this really pissed off look on his face, and while Darcy will admit to thinking that her new friend Tony's scientist friend is _hot_ , she's not about to break out with a show-stopping number about how she wants to throw her life away for someone she's _just met_.

But then there's Jane and Betty, and really _this_ is Darcy's life? Jane's been beating off thunder gods with a stick, she's being wooed by SHIELD now that the entire idea of an Einstein-Rosen Bridge has jumped from theoretical to _we need it NOW_ , and to top the trifecta she's getting calls from Tony _fucking_ Stark to come play in his science sandbox. Meanwhile Darcy can't get her university to agree to actually _give_ her a degree she's damn well _earned_ , and now _Jane_ of all science-loving people is falling in love with a woman she's only barely spoken to. Can this get more unreal?

And Darcy makes some catty remark about how _this is her life_ , and she looks over and Tony's scientist friend totally has this smile on his face and it warms up his entire face, and Darcy thinks that if it was just her job to make that happen _every day_ she could live a very happy life.

Tony introduces him as Doctor Bruce Banner before he whisks him off to the other side of the room to help Jane calculate how the mass of Saturn affects travel via rainbow bridge, and of course he's not just Tony's window dressing, he's a certified _genius_ , and Darcy feels like she missed out on something. Even though there was nothing there for her to have missed, right? Because surely a genius wants to date smart, career-driven women. Not a girl with seven-eighths of a Master's degree in a field she's feeling less and less attached to, and the great life ambition of not allowing Jane to work herself into a coma. But she makes him laugh as they help set up Jane's lab later that afternoon, and they're joking back and forth, and she's hooked, she can't look away, and how does one officially apply for the job of making someone smile?

Somehow she and Bruce end up getting dinner and somehow there's no one else there when there were three other people in this group the last time Darcy came up for air. She smiles at Bruce, and maybe it's a bit suggestive, and he seems to realize, all of a sudden, that they are alone in a dimly lit room and one of Tony's wait staff is asking if they want more wine. Bruce excuses himself quickly; Darcy goes to her room thinking she blew it though she's not sure exactly how, or what she can do to fix it.

Of course when she gets to her room- her and Jane's _double suite_ , which takes up a significant corner of a _floor_ , and into which she could have fit the entirety of the hollow shell of a diner they used to work out of in New Mexico-  Jane is waiting in the lounge in front of the elevator, full of information and ready to pounce. Jane's new best friend is apparently old friends with the doctor and it would seem Doctor Banner has some large, green, anger management issues. Jane warns Darcy to not get involved with him. Darcy manages to refrain from saying any of the many comments running through her head because not only is Bruce Banner a genius, he's a freaking _superhero_ , and Darcy's even more certain that he could never want to have anything serious to do with her.

In the darkness of her opulent bedroom it's easy to tell herself all the things she doesn't need, but the next morning when she looks up from fiddling with her iPod to find Doctor Banner staring at her Darcy smiles back because she _wants_ this. She wants to see him as often as she can and she wants to see him laughing and smiling and carefree. She can see that he doesn't get a lot of that; she can imagine that being occasionally eight feet tall and bright green probably doesn't help him relax.

They talk, and she makes him laugh, and they end up eating dinner together again, and he doesn't run away afterward. His eyes are on her, searching for something. She's not sure what it is, but she wants to give it to him. She wants so many things all of a sudden. Not from him or for him, but it's like his presence has lit a fire in her. Even in the short time she's known him she can see that Bruce has such obvious enjoyment of the work he does in his lab and such an obvious lack of enjoyment of pretty much the entirely of the rest of his life. That burns at Darcy. Between her graduate school digging in their heels with some quibbles about whether or not her internship credits actually count toward her degree, and SHIELD and aliens pretty much rerouting the course of _everything_ , she's been kind of... adrift as to what to do with herself, career wise. She wants to help; she wants to make a difference... but she doesn't want to _not_ enjoy her life. Darcy's pretty sure that not enjoying life is the worst crime a person can commit. She, very passionately, doesn't want Bruce to live like that. After dinner she walks to her room deep in thought.

Jane has more choice words for her that night, and her new best friend Betty comes along to deliver her warnings in person. Darcy is less successful at keeping her million sarcastic comments pinned behind her teeth, and some of them get out. Darcy leaves before she can say something she will truly regret, or try to shove Jane's head through a window.

She spends a few hours wandering the Tower, fiddling with her iPod whenever someone looks at her. She doesn't really want to talk to anyone. But it's right about then that she remembers Tony _fucking_ Stark, who owns this entire joint, who introduced her to his pal Bruce without mentioning the green parts, and she thinks that maybe there's someone else here who sees what she sees.

Tony's in his lab, staring at a soldering iron like it holds the meaning of life. She asked JARVIS if she could come in- and how cool is it having an AI that runs the _building_?- but Tony looks busy so she just sits on a lab stool and kicks herself into a spin. She adjusts her glasses and opens with, "So, you're Bruce's best friend."

Tony seems annoyed, though she can't tell by what, but he laughs when she calls him the last sane person in the building, and she thinks she's found what she was looking for.

"I could eat his brain," Tony says in all seriousness, and Darcy rolls her eyes. She knows it's more than that- Bruce is more than that, and Tony likes him for more than just that.

"He wants so much to help people," she says, because she knows how that feels. "I think he could use someone giving _him_ a hand once in a while. He has the most amazing smile, and I think people deserve to see more of it."

Tony's face gets soft and wistful, and Darcy has that feeling you get when you walk into a room and everyone falls silent and you realize they were talking about you, and she thinks _oh_. Because that makes a lot of sense. But she knows she wasn't misreading Bruce's signals, so when Tony offers to buy her things she lets half-formed suspicions die unspoken, and she smiles and accepts.

Tony is... well, he's Tony _fucking_ Stark, but she decides that he's earned also being just Tony. He's a man who wants to fix what he's broken, and, despite a well-crafted and hard to crack exterior, he doesn't want to have to do it alone. She starts trying to include him in her scientist round up, though she soon finds that he's almost more challenge than she can handle. He's more difficult to predict than Bruce, harder to pin down than Erik, more obsessive than Jane, more inclined to deliberately take things the wrong way than Betty, and possesses Darcy's own desire to push at boundaries just to see what will give. But Darcy Lewis is not a woman who gives up easily. She adjusts her tack, and instead of trying to pin him down she comes at it from the side. She and Bruce are having lunch or dinner usually twice a week, where she orders food and brings it to his lab; she asks JARVIS if Tony's eaten, and if not she adds him to her and Bruce's take out order. At first she leaves the food next to him in his workshop (or by the door if he's in the middle of something and JARVIS won't let her in), but then he starts joining her and Bruce sometimes. It's a privilege to watch them together. The science is as far over her head as Jane and Betty's conversations, but somehow Tony and Bruce don't make her feel like an outsider, the way Betty does when she acts put upon because she has to explain something to Darcy. Darcy wonders if it's because Tony can't sit still and he inevitably starts pulling up holographic blueprints to play with, tossing them at her and grinning when she tries to throw them back, or if it's because both of them so obviously _love_ what they're talking about. One thing Darcy's noticed about Betty, she may be good at what she does but she doesn't have the passion that Jane does, the desperate yearning to discover something she knows to be true but can't yet show to the world. Darcy's noticed this because Betty gets caught up in Jane's passion; she feeds off of it, the way Darcy used to, though Darcy never fed so deeply.

 

Darcy managed to wrangle her graduate school into finalizing the paperwork on her Masters and she got into Columbia. They're flexible enough that she has no trouble juggling class, schoolwork, her job (poking Jane's brain with a stick to wake it up, and generally fetching and go-fer-ing around the lab), and her unofficial job (making Bruce laugh). Despite that, she's slowly phasing her official job responsibilities over to Betty. She and Jane may not be in the same field, but Betty is better at poking Jane's brain into awareness than Darcy ever was. When Jane got in a rut, it helped her to explain what she was working on to Darcy, to get a different perspective or to just get herself on a different track. But with Betty, Jane won't have to start at the beginning with explaining basic scientific concepts, and Betty can probably help her come up with ideas better than Darcy did. They certainly seem to enjoy each other's company quite a bit more than either of them care for Darcy at the moment.

It might be petty, but Darcy would be a liar if she claimed that sticking it to Betty isn't part of the reason she goes after Bruce so hard. It's nowhere near the largest reason, but when Darcy calls Jane and just gets her mailbox she gets frustrated that the friendship they had is apparently now no longer a thing that exists. It's so easy to direct that animosity to Betty instead.

Darcy and Bruce haven't officially been out on a date yet. In addition to the occasional dinners-eaten-in-vicinity-that-don't-count, Darcy drops by his lab whenever she has free time. When he looks up and sees her, Bruce smiles. Darcy feels her heart flutter every time, and she smiles back. Sometimes Tony is there, but most times it's just her and Bruce, eating Chinese or Indian takeout far into the night as they talk about the composition of stars or try to come up with reasons as to why Tony's been so squirrelly lately.

 

So, they haven't even really been on a date for real yet, much less progressed any further than that, and Darcy's getting a little... antsy. She's a grown woman, not a teenager; she's not going to let her hormones _run_ her life, but life would be nicer if they got to play even a little bit. Bruce is a goddamn flirt, but he likes to move slow and Darcy's okay with that, she really is.  She knows he's been bitten enough that "twice shy" is kind of a laughable understatement. It's not just the ex-woman in his life, but just life itself- the huge fuck up that has been his life. There may have been some files that Darcy wasn't actually supposed to be reading, but it's more likely that she got Betsy Braddock drunk one night. Only the one night, because hanging out with a drunk telepath is not an experience to be repeated. But the point is that Darcy gets it. And she's not pushing. Much. It's just she wishes someone would tell her libido they're taking the slow track, because _damn_.

Darcy's sitting with Betsy in the alcove across from the elevator, two floors down from Jane's lab (close enough to be summoned, far enough not to get a chill from Betty's frigid glare), that Darcy up and decided was hers now. They're just hanging out waiting for Clint to show up so that Betsy can use him to perfect her awesome ninja skills upon, and the elevator doors open and there's Bruce. He looks frazzled, the collar button of his shirt is undone and his hair has not been brushed. Darcy feels something vicious grip her somewhere in the region of her abdomen and she has to clamp her hands around the edge of the table in front of her to anchor herself and prevent her from walking over, burying her hands in that tangled mop, and nuzzling the glimpse of chest hair she can see peeking up behind that first closed button. She makes a sound deep in her throat; she _wants_ to rip that shirt open and wrap herself in him.

Next to her Betsy winces and glares. "Damn girl," she says. "I think my nonexistent _granddaughter_ just lost her virginity you were projecting that so hard."

Bruce is thinking about something else obviously, and he barely even sees them as he rushes past, looking for something or someone.

Darcy sighs.

After the drunk prophesying incident in Central Park, Darcy is not exactly Betsy's favorite person, but Betsy sighs and offers, "Let's get smashed again tonight."

And Darcy sighs again. "It won't help. Besides, I have a presentation tomorrow morning. I do _not_ want my Comparative Politics professor seeing me in my usual after-drinking face. I'll just make a night of it with Bob, see if he can't take the edge off."

Betsy's smile slides over her face like she's hearing the most amazing thing, while also the saddest thing ever. "Bob's a good man," she says with a straight face, but she can't hold it, and she's laughing at Darcy's misfortune all the way to the elevator on her way to the gym.

It's not that bad, really, and Darcy can deal with it. Because she's not a kid, and she doesn't want her relationship with Bruce to _be_ about that. To include a little something deeper would be nice, but she wants to _build_ on the friendship they have, not replace it in the haste of desire for something more.

 

 

Somehow the media discovers that Darcy's attending Columbia with Tony's recommendation. Darcy finds out about this at 3:47 on a Monday afternoon, right as she's on her way to class. A man steps out from around the corner of a building and thrusts a microphone at her. Darcy's still got fifteen minutes’ worth of campus to get across in thirteen minutes, and she's been living in New York long enough to _know_ her school's on the edge of Harlem, so her fingers immediately take up position on the trigger of her Mace as soon as she sees the man. The man says, "Miss Lewis, can you comment on the speculation that you are the daughter of Tony Stark?" and gets a face full of liquid fire for his trouble. Darcy still loves her Taser, but the Mace has the advantage of letting her shoot and continue running without a pause.

Darcy is spooked and she practically flies the rest of the way to her Foreign Policy class, but afterward she's not sure she heard a word the professor said the entire period. After class, there are a couple of people with cameras and floodlights in front of the building so she ducks out the side entrance and has a classmate walk with her arm in arm to the next nearest station rather than take the subway directly from campus.

She arrives back at the Tower and takes the elevator all the way to the penthouse, where she's (almost) too freaked out to notice she's interrupting Tony in the middle of something _personal_ , and she lets him have it.

Tony's actually a decent person underneath everything, so after he stops laughing- which takes nineteen minutes, she asked JARVIS to time it- he calls his legal department and sets her up a meeting for the next morning to talk about things like what's inflammatory and what's libel, and when it is and is not appropriate to pepper spray aggressive journalists.

 

Of course she ends up on the news, and Bruce finds out about it. It makes things kind of awkward between them, forcing the age issue to stop being the elephant in the room and start being the elephant-writing-sonnets-while-unicycling in the room; something that really just _can't_ be ignored no matter how uncomfortable the discussion is.

"I'm old enough to be your father."

"Are you my father?" she says kind of shortly, looking at him over the top of her glasses. She's getting tired of her age being a _thing_ and the debate over her parentage making the 24-hour news circuit.

He furrows his brows in the most attractive way. "Of course not, Darcy."

"Then I don't see how that's relevant to anything."

He holds his glasses in one hand, pinches the bridge of his nose, and sighs. "You should... hang out with people your age."

"Listen, Peter Joshua." She sets her container of noodles on the counter next to his, which isn't even opened; she'd dismissed that as him not being hungry when she should have seen it as a sign that, hey, uncomfortable conversations instead of actual talking tonight, everyone. "I was there when my boss ran over an alien in her crazy Pinzgauer and then the government stole all her research and my iPod while they were at it. There's not exactly a huge market of people I can bitch to about that who _understand_ and don't think I'm making it up. And now apparently the city, and maybe the world for all I know, thinks I'm the daughter of Tony _fucking_ Stark. There's an even smaller group of people I can bitch to about that and actually get any sympathy.

"That said, there is an entire building full of people underneath us and I'm sure at least a hundred of them are in a more _appropriate_ age bracket and have the ability to at least pretend to believe me when I complain about Tasering aliens." She leans forward. Bruce isn't looking at her. "I can take the elevator down and probably meet twenty guys without even stepping off of it. I'm smoking hot and I have a killer smile. I know these things about myself.

"Now, ask me why I applied for an internship helping an obsessive scientist chase atmospheric events across the desert. Because I can tell you right now, there are a hell of a lot of easier ways to get six credits." She pauses, waiting.

Bruce swallows. "Why did you?" he asks, half reluctance, half fascination.

"Because I wanted to do something that no one else around me had done." Darcy picks up her chopsticks and picks at her noodles. "I wanted to talk to people who talked to my _face_ , who didn't think an evening was well spent trying to get me drunk enough to bone them. I wanted to be around people who wanted to change the world, and who didn't think the _only_ way to do so was to get a law degree. God, I love Jane like a sister. I love the look she gets on her face when she figures something out and I loved the nights when she couldn't sleep and I'd follow her up to the roof of that crappy dive and she'd talk about the stars until I couldn't listen anymore and my ears fell asleep." She wipes away a tear. She hadn't meant this to be about her issues with Jane. "I wanted to make a difference. I wanted to help her make a difference." Darcy stabs her chopsticks into her container and leaves them there. "But if you'd rather I didn't come here anymore, that's fine." She stands.

"Darcy." Bruce's voice is so strained that her eyes dart straight to him even though she had planned to storm out without looking at him. He looks torn. "I don't want to hurt you," he says. "There... are so many things about me that could hurt you." In the weeks they've talked he's never brought up the Hulk even once and it just now hits her, looking at the despair on his face, that he was pretending- he was indulging himself with her in a way he hadn't allowed himself before because he wanted _her_ , he wanted to think that her company was something he could _keep_ when he was so certain it was something he would be denied all too soon.

"I know," she says, because she hopes to _God_ that he didn't think that she didn't know. "I know you're a superhero, and that you like to smash things when you're not physics-ing the shit out of them, and that the army wants to kill you, and that Tony's more than a little bit in love with you, and that you're older than me, and... I can't think of anything else, Bruce, so you've gotta help me out because _none_ of that is enough to make me want to leave this room."

He takes a deep breath. "Yeah?" He takes another one. "Darcy, it's not... Hulk is dangerous. You shouldn't be around him."

She sighs. "I've got paparazzi jumping out at me from behind corners. I'm going to accidentally knife one of them and spend the rest of my life in prison long before Hulk has the chance to smash anything near me." She frowns. "I was only standing twenty feet away when a giant alien robot tried to fricassee Thor. Should I get scanned or something? Do I need alien chemotherapy? Anyway, tell Hulk to get in line." She holds up a finger, indicating Tony's workshop on the floor above and figuratively including the penthouse in the gesture. "I'm also pretty sure Tony is going to blow this place into the next time zone about _any_ day now."

Bruce actually smiles, and bingo- her job application has been accepted. "I've spent more time in his workshop than you have. I'm pretty sure JARVIS keeps all the really explosive stuff under wraps."

"Ha ha," she mocks, but she's secretly grinning that she got him to make a joke after their elephant conversation. She's going to say something else but the things she's just said click in her brain and she frowns in thought.

"What is it?" Bruce asks softly, like he doesn't really want to hear the answer.

But she's not thinking about him, which is very odd. But it fits with the oddness of the realization she just had. "The giant alien robot. It had a... design I guess? On it." She makes a loose, sketchy motion around her face. "I saw something with the same design on it sitting on the bar in Tony's penthouse when I was chewing him out about the paparazzi thing."

Bruce's expression clears, but then gets thoughtful. "I wonder if he's trying to reverse engineer..." He trails off and gets a little blank. Darcy lays her hand over his and he looks up at her and fakes a smile. "SHIELD did that. Um, they tried to reverse engineer a weapon from the Destroyer. The, ah, giant alien robot. It didn't really work out well." The fake smile is tight, so she knows someone died, but the fakeness doesn't reach his eyes so it wasn't someone he knew well or something he feels huge personal responsibility for.

"I told you," she says, completely serious. "Tony's going to blow us all up long before anything else has a chance to go wrong."

He doesn't expect it, and so his laughter catches him off guard and it rings out through the lab before he manages to choke it off.

She grins, and her fingers curl around his hand. He's watching her with that look again, like he's searching for something. She looks back at him and waits. After a moment he turns his hand and his fingers curl back around hers and she smiles in triumph.

Bruce smiles back at her. There is a hesitation in it, but also desire. "Peter Joshua, that's the guy from _Charade_ right?" Darcy nods and he says, "I've never seen the end."

Darcy closes her other hand over their joined ones, holding his hand between hers. "That is absolutely criminal."

He smiles again at the sincerity in her voice and suggests, "We could watch it. Together."

Darcy has to hide her mouth behind the sandwich she's made of his hand to keep him from seeing the twist of humor in her grin. He remembered the character's name, but she wonders how well he remembers the movie, because suggesting that they together watch a movie about a young heroine pursuing a man with an even greater age difference than theirs- and this after the elephant conversation even- is either complete innocence or the most desirable kind of insidiousness.

"While every production currently available digitally is in the Tower library and at your disposal," JARVIS puts in, "there is a theater only a few streets away playing the film in question two nights from now." Darcy can't hold it in anymore and she starts laughing.

"It's a date," she says. She leans in to kiss him. There's been some definite infringing upon personal bubbles but this is the first time they've kissed, and his lips touch hers almost hesitantly, but she sucks in her breath in anticipation and it's like it draws him into her, and he puts an arm around her, his other hand is touching her face, and she sinks into him.

He's a talented kisser, which, for the record, she wasn't expecting, though maybe she should have, because he kisses like he tests a theory in his lab: slow and methodical, feeling it out until he reaches the point of no return and then just throws himself into it, body and soul.

She leans back and Bruce's eyes are shining.

 

The date starts out surprisingly well, considering Darcy's just realizing she's never actually _seen_ Bruce leave Stark Tower and yet she's still aware of how twitchy he can be around crowds of people.

She finds out halfway through dinner that Tony is stalking them via the heartrate monitor in Bruce's phone. She's a little annoyed, and maybe she says something a little too pointed.

Bruce is frustrated, and as he tenses up she realizes how relaxed he had been before, knowing that that safety net was in place in case something crazy happened.

So, Darcy takes a big gulp of wine and shoves her inner bitch back down. She's waited a long time to get to this point. It's worth it. Bruce is worth it. She doesn't need to ruin it with her uncontrollable sass.

But this isn't a one-sided situation. "I love your sassy inner bitch." Bruce takes her hand earnestly. "Just, please understand, I don't want to hurt you."

He looks at her for a long time and she looks back, deep into his eyes. He's so smart, she wonders why he's so blind about some things.

She holds his arm on the street and steals his popcorn at the movie and doesn't ask for more. Her fingers brush against his and she watches from the corner of her eye the way he takes a deep breath and his eyes fixate on her fingers, his mind already thinking ahead to what happens next. It thrills Darcy, like a secret held between them and away from the world, and it makes something inside of her curl and burn deliciously. She had told Tony, before, that she thought the world deserved to see more of Bruce smiling. She's surprised herself by deciding that she's actually a little bit selfish when it comes to sharing Bruce's happiness.

After the movie they walk back to the Tower and Bruce kisses her at the elevator. There's a finality to the gesture, but there's a question in the way he holds her hands and steps back, watching her. Sure it's technically a first date, but Darcy decides that for her purposes all those dinners count now, and she steps into the elevator, pulling him with her, and pushes the button for Bruce's floor. She watches him the whole time; he sighs when she steps away but his eyes are sharp on her when she presses the button. He steps forward, pressing her against the wall of the elevator, and, in that relative privacy, kisses her deeply.

Darcy moans as their tongues dance; her fingers tangling in his hair pull him closer. All too soon the elevator door opens. "Your floor, Doctor Banner," JARVIS says.

Darcy starts to pull away from the wall and shift toward the door.

"Hold on a moment." Bruce leans back. "I don't... I want to make sure we talk about what you think this evening entails." He looks away and swallows. "Before we go any further."

Darcy nods. "I'm going to follow you back to your room and we're going to fuck like a pair of rabbits." She pats her clutch. "I'm fully prepared, just in case." She feels the gooseflesh ripple up her bare arms, and she leans toward him unconsciously before she catches herself and tries to find words to reassure him. "I want this Bruce, I want you. I've been dreaming about you for, shit, weeks now, I-" She cuts herself off when he leans toward her again, his arms coming around her and pulling her against the solid heat of him. She shivers and moans encouragingly, pressing kisses to the line of his jaw.

Bruce shudders, his arms tightening unconsciously. "Darcy, you should know that I... I don't have a lot of experience. I'm not sure what you expect, but I-"

She giggles and kisses his lips. "Bruce, baby, I expect you to touch me, and to ask me if I like it, and then to keep doing it when I say 'fuck, yes, more.'"

He smiles against her lips. "Okay."

She raises an eyebrow. "Anything else, Doctor? Or are we ready to proceed?"

He leans his head back slightly to look at her, his expression wondering. He shakes his head, and she can see the burning desire in his eyes. It gives her a little pause- just a small one- because as much as she knows she's awesome, she's also nothing particularly special that a _freaking superhero_ should look at her like that. She's patient with his own self-doubt because she _knows_ what it's like to be so surprised to be truly valued.

But she also wants to get this show on the road before he talks himself out of it so she moves her feet, and he practically carries her out of the elevator _finally_ , passes right through the lounge, and sets her on her feet in his bedroom.

Darcy kicks off her shoes and curls her hands in Bruce's shirt, leaning into his chest. His arms are warm around her and she starts undoing the buttons of his shirt. He pulls down the zipper of her dress and slides his fingers along her back. "Do you like that?" he murmurs against her lips, taking her earlier words a little too much to heart she thinks.

Darcy moans in affirmation and shimmies out of the dress. Her hands are in his hair again and she wraps her legs around his waist.

Bruce makes some strangled noise of surprise and humor, and dumps her on the bed. He's leaning over her now, and she likes this quite a bit more because she can use the bed as leverage against which to try to press as much of herself as she can against him. His hands are skimming the bare flesh of her abdomen as if drawing a line from her bra to her panties, and caressing her inner thigh. He bends down and mouths her nipple through the dark satin of her bra.

"Bruce," Darcy moans, throwing her head back against the bed, the feel of his lips going right through the center of her. Her skin is tingling all over and the pooled heat between her legs throbs. "Shit. So that line about how you don't know what you're doing, does that work for you?"

He stills. "I... Darcy-"

She's an idiot, and she kisses him before he can say anything else. "Never mind," she murmurs against his lips, pressing her finger to them when he would speak. "I forgot, I'm sorry, just keep..." She kisses him again. "Keep doing what you're doing. You're amazing."

Bruce blushes, which is cute and earnest, and he fixes his eyes on her in a way that makes her feel like an experiment in his lab- the sole focus of his brain as he figures out the best way to take her apart.

They retreat for a few moments, exploring less sensitive skin- Darcy finally pushes his shirt all the way off of him and she knows she's already too far gone because she really should not be as turned on as she is by the hard curve of his triceps- before Bruce boldly runs his hands down her sides and catches the strip of satin and lace at her hip and keeps pulling down.

Darcy shivers. Bruce's face is pressed between her breasts and she's lying there in nothing but her bra as his fingers spread over the newly bared skin of her butt. He turns his head and looks up at her, and her breath catches, completely involuntarily, because there is a ring of green around his iris.

Bruce tenses immediately, his hands pulling away. "What's wrong?" He blinks and the ring is gone.

Darcy Lewis is a woman who is used to getting what she wants and she has waited too long to make it to this point. Facts are not going to help her case; but truth might. "I want you so much," she says softly. Even behind the wide pupils of his arousal she can see the disbelief in his eyes. She frowns. "You don't think I do?" She caresses his cheek and he turns into the touch to kiss her palm.

"No, I believe you," he says huskily. "I just can't imagine why." His arms tighten around her as if alarmed at the fact that he should say something that would drive her away when her presence is very much, very obviously, still desired.

Darcy thinks this perhaps is a conversation better saved for after; for every single day of the rest of her life, because he deserves to hear it that often. So she keeps it to the salient points for the moment. "Because you're brilliant," she kisses his temple, "and handsome," she drags his hand back to her thigh, "and thoughtful," she kisses his cheek, "and so very, very sexy." She drags his finger up her thigh to her clit. She is so wet for him she's surprised that it's not already leaking down her legs and painting her thighs with evidence of her desire. His breath stutters to a halt when he feels it, and for a moment she thinks she's broken him because he's stiff against her and not breathing at all- but then he moans, a deep, broken, sound, and his fingers stab up inside of her and she's suddenly gasping, grabbing at his shoulders, practically screaming as he brings her off.

She melts against him with a sated purr, and he lays her back against the bed with a kiss. He's shivering with tension and she thinks it's almost definitely been longer for him than it has been for her. She trails her fingers down his back, over the outer curve of his thigh, and around to his cock. He gasps and thrusts against her, and almost immediately says, "Darcy, stop." She withdraws her hands and he presses his forehead into her shoulder as he tries to control his breathing. "I'm... not going to... last, and I want... You... you said you have a condom, in your purse? I've... there's something around here, but I don't know where, and I..." He licks his lips and tries not to look at her.

Darcy grins. "Sure thing, Doc. It's on the floor." He withdraws with sudden, jerky movements. She kisses him when he comes back and takes the square of foil from his hands. "Thanks for not being a dick about wearing a hat." She rolls the condom down the length of him and gives it a few good jerks, to test the lube and really just for fun. He growls at her and tumbles her back to the bed. She laughs, and pants in appreciation as he slides inside of her.

So it _has_ been awhile which tends to give everything that rosy glow, but Darcy's pretty sure that if her last partner had been yesterday she would still think that Bruce was fucking perfect, so much more perfect that anyone she's been with. She's warm and raw and already building to another climax when he pushes inside of her, and the firmness of him, the heat of his body all against her, the authoritative ease of his fingers as he finally shucks her bra and she is naked before him, the gentle searching pressure of his lips on her skin, all of it is so perfect. "You're so perfect," she murmurs, her fingers holding on, buried in his thick hair, her lips pressing a reverent kiss to his temple as he moves against her in hard thrusts. He turns to look at her and the ring is back, pale and green around the dark of his irises, and she kisses him to keep herself from saying anything. _Every part of you is perfect,_ she thinks, and she pulls him closer.

After he climaxes, and pulls another one from her, and they quickly clean up, Darcy climbs back into his bed and pulls the sheet around her. She shivers. "Come here."

Bruce is watching her with soft eyes, and he seems pleased that she wants to stay. He crawls into bed behind her, wrapping his arms around her. "Is this alright?" he asks, kissing the curve where her neck meets her shoulder.

She grins. "It'll do, Doctor." 

 

 

The assorted Avengers shuffle off to Canada for a week, and Darcy spends those muggy September days trying to avoid the weather and get into the groove for the new semester at Columbia. Getting a doctorate isn't easy. Which makes sense, right? But Darcy hadn't counted on the networking, the presentations, the conferences. She's enjoying it more than she thought possible, which is probably the weirdest part.

She's in her suite's kitchen making breakfast one day when Jane crosses the hall and knocks on her door. She's holding a box of Darcy's favorite chocolates, so Darcy lets her in, sets the chocolate on the counter, and accepts the apology it is without making a big deal out of it. They're chatting, Darcy excited about her doctoral work and Jane all afire with the latest astronomical data she's gathered, and working on their second cup of coffee when Jane gets to the meat of it.

"I'm sorry," she says. "I know Betty has some... some history with Bruce, and she's very vocal about it, but I shouldn't have let that come between us. You're my friend Darcy. You've been such a good friend, especially when I didn't have many." She's looking out the window, so Darcy wipes her tear away with the cuff of her sleeve and pretends that it didn't happen.

"It's okay," she says, and maybe she doesn't mean it fully yet, but it _will be_ okay now, and that's the important part. "Everything that's happened lately, it's been enough to throw everything for a loop, you know? I'm... I'm happy for you, that you found Betty. She cares about you a lot, and I can see that you really care about her, too."

Jane blushes. "I do," she says honestly. Silence falls for a moment, comfortable. "So, you and Bruce," Jane says, half teasing, half fishing.

Darcy nods. "Yeah." She looks out the window too, and she can feel Jane's impatience. Darcy grins. "He's... not like any guy I've known before." Jane snorts into her coffee, and Darcy shakes her head. "I'm not even talking about that. He's... sweet, and it's not just an act. He really cares about people. About me. I mean, don't get me wrong, he's still a guy. He can't pick up after himself to save his life, and he leaves dishes sitting out with food still on them, and I can't even. But..." She shrugs, but Jane is watching her, her expression soft.

"I know what you mean," Jane says. She blushes again. "Sometimes I walk from the lab out toward the elevator and I haven't seen Betty all day because she was across in the bio-lab, buried in one of her projects; she'll look up and the way she smiles at me, I just..." She clears her throat and looks down at her coffee.

Darcy nods and says, "Yeah."

They finish their coffee in silence, and over the next few days their lives start to intersect again. Darcy hadn't even realized how much trouble she'd been going to in order to avoid her floormates until it was no longer an issue, and she even smiles a good morning at Betty a few times, who usually responds with the barest shadow of a greeting but at least that's something.

 

Tony gets back from Canada before everyone else, which Darcy supposes is what happens when you can fly yourself, and Darcy goes up to talk to him. But Tony's in a weird mood and he ducks her questions about the mission and slips away into his workshop. JARVIS locks the door after him, and Darcy rolls her eyes. She heads to Bruce's lab and hangs out in the chair she had brought in and set by the window for her use, using her Starkpad to edit her paper that's due next week as she waits for Bruce.

Darcy would bet money that Tony's weird mood swings are due to his secret girlfriend, except that Bruce won't take her money. Bruce's theory is based on PTSD from wormhole exposure, which Darcy considers a factor but not the primary component.

When Bruce gets back he comes over and kisses her hair. She reaches up to run her hand over his stubbled cheek. "Score one for me," she says. "Tony got back already, and he's totally just been fucking."

"Hmm." Bruce smiles against her hair. "He did leave without joining us for the debrief. Steve was annoyed."

Darcy snorts. "But I can't imagine he was surprised." She sets her Starkpad on the table.

"No, never that." Bruce lifts her bodily out of the chair and sits in it, setting her on his lap. She squirms until she's comfortable, her head on his shoulder so that she can see his face. "I'm willing to concede your significant other argument-" Darcy does a fist pump- "with one slight alteration."

"Oh?" Darcy thinks over her mystery girlfriend profile, trying to remember if it had any holes, trying to think what Bruce could have learned that she doesn't know.

Bruce doesn't keep her in suspense long. "It's a man."

" _Oh_." Darcy thinks about it. She knows that Tony is in love with Bruce and given that his type used to be "anything that moves" she's not surprised about _that_. "I just... I figured that if anyone was patient enough to put up with him, and not want the spotlight that comes with, it wouldn't be a guy." Bruce huffs a laugh. "What made you change your position?"

Bruce sighs. "He was a little shit the entire time we were in Canada, which made me rethink your mystery girlfriend hypothesis."

Darcy grins. "Really? He wasn't getting any and that made him a shithead?"

Bruce rolls his eyes and tries to stay serious. "As far as the other... it's little things. Sometimes, in the workshop," he blushes, "I've noticed him walking stiffly." Darcy buries her face in Bruce's shoulder to keep from bursting out laughing. "And I've noticed... a cologne, sort of, though it's not any scent I'm familiar with. It's not anything... feminine. And he'll get this look on his face at times, like he's thinking about something else, but when I ask he seems nervous and denies everything. It's such an... un-Tony-like behavior that it sticks in my mind."

"He thinks you would judge him for it?" Darcy hums softly. "He should know us better than that by now. How long do you think?"

Bruce stares into the middle distance, thinking. "I... since you and Jane moved in, maybe? He's been... different, though I suppose I can't say I knew him terribly well beforehand."

"That is way longer than a usual Tony Stark relationship." Darcy strokes her fingers over Bruce's forearm, brushing the hair the wrong way before stroking it back down. "Whoever he is, I think Tony really likes him."

Bruce nods, turning his face to Darcy and kissing her cheek softly. Darcy turns to him, claiming his lips. When she pulls back she makes a face. "You need a shave."

"Sorry," Bruce says, and starts to pull away.

She smacks his shoulder lightly and pulls him back to her, her fingers tangling in his hair and pulling him down as she shifts, straddling him in the chair. She kisses him again, demanding entrance, and he parts his lips, welcoming her in. She grins. "I hope you didn't want to talk about Tony all night."

"You're the one who brought him up," Bruce says defensively, then gasps as she grinds down against him. His hands go to the chair's armrests, gripping hard, and he swallows.

"Don't worry," Darcy says soothingly. "I have some other things I'd like to bring up."

 

 

Somehow, it's not really a surprise that Tony's mystery boyfriend turns out to be Loki. Because, _really_? She's heard about what happened with the Phoenix and how Loki was MIA and presumed dead, and she's hung out with the Superfriends enough that she knows that the prevailing mood was "yes, let's hope the sucker's dead." But Thor is still her favorite, after Bruce of course, and she knows he's been sadder than he lets on about his brother's fate. So she's excited for Thor to have rumors of death in this case to be greatly exaggerated. And she's probably the first one to calm down enough to notice that an intergalactic war criminal has been living 15 floors above her for the past year and nobody's dead.

She can't forget the annoying stone-faced SHIELD agent who stole all Jane's research. Coulson. He's dead, from the first invasion. And lots of other people; maybe Darcy didn't know them personally, but she figures they were grandmothers and boyfriends and people just living their lives who will never get to go home to the ones they love. And there's the giant alien robot that she's still not sure she shouldn't get, like, a scan or something for, that Loki sent to flatten the town that Darcy was living in.

"He's different now," Tony says. And there's a burning need in Tony's eyes for that to be true. Darcy gets it. She watches celebrity gossip; she's heard about Afghanistan. And she trusts Tony enough to trust that he knows that _needing_ something to be true doesn't always make it true.

Clint feels betrayed, which Darcy also totally gets. She's not sure she understands where Steve gets off, but she knows there's history between him and Tony, not necessarily of his making, as well as a gigantic personality gulf. Storm supports Thor, and her people go with her. SHIELD goes with Steve. The lines are pretty much already drawn.

But she can see the relief on Tony's face when he sees her and Bruce with Thor and Storm's gang and she thinks the lines weren't quite as clear to him. She sits on the arm of the couch and makes quips, keeping it light, and she gets a smile out of Tony.

 

Darcy pretty much follows Bruce's lead, because Tony is her friend but he was Bruce's friend first, like how Thor was hers first, and she's mostly just there to give the thumbs up to whatever makes Thor happy and doesn't get her killed. The " _holy fuck"_ conversation comes later.

She follows Bruce back to his room afterward, which isn't something she usually does unless it's specifically for a hook up, but that barely registers because, "Holy fuck."

"Darcy," Bruce chides. "You can't _really_ be that surprised."

"No way! There is no way you saw that coming! I mean, the more I think about it the more it sort of both makes perfect sense and is also the least sense making thing possible, but there is _no_ way..."

Bruce sighs and he looks worried. "No. I never would have thought...." He kind of trails off, then murmurs, "Loki. It does kind of boggle the mind. The guy who tried to invade the planet, is now secretly sleeping with _Tony Stark_."

The way Bruce says Tony's name gives it a certain weight without Darcy's favorite appellation in the middle (she's thought about trying to trademark that) and there is a mixture of fondness and exasperation in his tone. In the penthouse, Darcy let other people ask the awkward questions- how long has Loki been here? Is he here all the time? Is he, you know, planning on taking over the planet any time soon?- but here with Bruce she lets herself be the bad guy. "Do you... think Loki's controlling him? Messing with his head?"

"No," Bruce says immediately, but he frowns, because he's a scientist, and he works through the problem methodically. "Loki no longer has access to the scepter, which seemed to be the device through which the mind control worked. Point two, the mind control didn't work on Tony the first time. But let's consider that either something in the situation has changed or Loki has found a way around these limitations; I would be the first to confess that I don't know how magic works. However, all the people Loki influenced previously acted far outside their usual behavior patterns. Tony has not exhibited any unusual behavior."

"He told Fury to fuck off," Darcy offers, "and he is sleeping with a murderer."

Bruce shakes his head. "Tony's always had issues with other people's high handedness. He likes to push people; Fury doesn’t like putting up with Tony any more than Tony likes being put up with. And nothing having to do with sex is admissible evidence when it comes to Tony acting as himself or under the control of another."

Darcy laughs in surprise. "That's... actually very accurate."

"Despite my own lack of knowledge, I believe Thor is extremely well versed, not only in magic, its visible effects and the uses it can be put to, but also in his brother's... magical signature, I suppose it can be called. If Loki has been influencing Tony for a period of several months, Thor should have noticed something. Also, why reveal it now? I suppose there could be a reason, but it seems unlikely."

"Thor admitted he doesn't usually know what Loki's up to."

Bruce shrugs. "That doesn't mean he doesn't know _that_ Loki's up to something. The Tesseract is an unknown factor, which could possibly be negating any kind of familiarity that could help Thor recognize his brother's magic, but, again, it seems unlikely."

"How can you say that when it's an unknown factor?"

"Howard Stark did research on the Tesseract for years. He documented the energy readings carefully. Again not truly having a background understanding of magic, there is nothing in the cube's energy that suggests that it is capable of altering mental perception."

"No, the mind control came from the gem in the staff." Darcy remembers what she was told about the events of Loki's initial visit to New York. "The one he doesn't have anymore. A different, but similar energy source."

Bruce nods. "The data I saw from SHIELD's tests on the gem in the scepter registered different, though similar as you say, readings from the Tesseract."

Darcy sighs, leaning back. "I guess we'll just wait and hope for the best."

Bruce snorts. "I have a few things I'd like to talk about with Loki. And if he doesn't like it, I can always rearrange Tony's floor with his face."

 

Darcy is the one who breaks it to Jane and Betty. Darcy is not an idle gossip, but she takes a certain pride in possessing information, and she is also a firm believer in everyone being made aware of information that concerns them. Planet invading aliens living upstairs concerns everyone in the building.

So, Darcy invites herself over for breakfast. She comes bearing croissants from the bakery on 18th (JARVIS had them delivered), but she knows she won't be a welcome guest. When she walks in Jane sits up straighter, pulling away from Betty who's behind her, playing with her hair. Jane is not big on public displays of affection, even in the privacy of her own kitchen in front of her best friend, so Darcy's prepared for the stink eye Betty shoots her and lets it ping off the box of croissants that Jane digs into with a pleased sound.

"So have you heard that Tony is sleeping with Loki?" Around bushes, Darcy does not beat.

Jane's croissant falls from her hand to the table and Betty swears as Jane's coffee goes spilling off the edge and over her lap. She may not have drunk any of that coffee yet, but Jane's eyes are sharp and awake on Darcy as she says, voice carefully clipped, "What?"

Darcy grins; she may not beat around the bush but she's be lying if she said she didn't like poking bears. "It means to be having the sex, Jane. Do I need to break it down for you more?"

 Jane shakes her head angrily. "Did you just say that Tony _fucking_ Stark," and Darcy really needs to get that trademarked, "the guy who owns this building, we're talking about the same Tony Stark? Knows where Loki is- the guy who tried to blow up this city and get this fucking _planet_ taken over by aliens? And he's using that information to bend him over?"

Darcy frowns. "Don't be crass, Jane."

Betty pushes herself up from the table. "Do _not_ think you can come in here and lecture _us_."

Darcy spreads her hands in surrender. "Okay, peace. I just thought you should know. Apparently, Loki's been flitting in and out pretty much since we moved in. I figure no one's dead, it's not that big of a deal."

"No one's dead?" Jane repeats. "How can you even say that Darcy? He brought an _army_ through a wormhole." She runs her hands through her hair. "Have you forgotten Puente Antiguo?"

Darcy stills. "No. I haven't forgotten." There is silence for a moment, in memory of the things that have been lost, but Darcy doesn't let it sit very long. "Everyone makes mistakes." Jane scoffs and Darcy fixes her with a gimlet look. "Everyone," she repeats. "I guess, when you're an alien demi-god your fuck ups tend to be a bit bigger than most peoples. From what Tony says he wasn't exactly planning to lead an invasion, he just found himself in a place where that was the only option."

"There's always a choice," Betty says softly. Her gimlet eyes are kind of beating Darcy's.

"There is," Darcy allows. "But let's talk glass houses for a moment, because there is _no one_ in this room who can throw a _fucking_ stone." She fixes her eyes on Betty. "I maybe don't know all the details, but I think an overbearing father figure can pressure someone into a position where even the smartest of people can make mistakes." Betty tenses like a wire; her jaw is clenched with anger and her eyes are flashing. Jane's hands curl into fists, but Darcy's not done with her. She turns her eyes on Jane. "And I think sometimes someone can be too caught up in what they're doing to remember to care about the people they claim to love and consider that those people maybe don't like being lied to." Jane's face is flushed with rage and Darcy maybe feels a little bad about it, because they had a pact about never speaking of Donald and there are some things that just shouldn't be broken. And it's not like Darcy really feels like standing up for Loki; he's just her excuse. She may not want to die on this mountain, but she's going to use it to let some of her frustration with her floormates out to play.

Darcy pushes herself up from the table and leaves.

 

Either Tony's lying, or Loki's AWOL for the next several weeks. Thor is trying to be sneaky, lurking to see if he can catch Loki walking around the Tower, which Darcy thinks is adorable. She takes him out for ice cream whenever she catches him skulking near the elevator. Thor likes to talk, mostly reminiscences of his and Loki's childhood, and sometimes the stories of how they started to grow apart. Thor isn't stupid, and Darcy isn't a psychiatrist, so she doesn't push him too hard on some of the stuff that in hindsight seems, like, really, _really_ obvious. She thinks Thor is already getting some of how maybe if he'd been able to pull his own head out of his ass for a moment certain events might have been mitigated. Not prevented, because, for all Thor ghosts around some topics and won't say some things outright, Darcy can tell that whatever was building to the showdown she glimpsed part of in Puente Antiguo was a storm that was always going to break.

 

It's almost two months since the truth came out about Tony's secret boyfriend, and Darcy finds herself leaving Bruce's lab later than usual. She's alone, and the rest of the floor is dark. She's digging for her iPod in her bag and almost runs over Betsy Braddock near the elevator.

"Sorry," Darcy apologizes, "Wasn't watching where I was going, though I think the fault of the collision is actually on you and the apparent failure of your ninja stealth skills." She grins. Betsy smiles back absently. "Were you looking for Doctor Zelenka?" Darcy asks, because, since Clint and Natasha officially broke with Tony's group, she's pretty sure Zelenka is the only person in the building whose company Betsy would willingly seek out, especially this time of night, when Darcy thought Storm and her people were all tucked in up in Westchester. But even that is odd, because though Zelenka is a known night owl, his lab is eight floors down and Betsy should know that.

It's like it's happening in slow motion, because Darcy can see "Betsy" realizing Darcy's suspicions even as Darcy is realizing that she's having them, and, as her digging hand reaches for her Mace instead of her iPod, "Betsy" steps back and her face ripples and changes, and suddenly she is Loki. He stands still, watching Darcy, his posture wary but not particularly worried. He seems... curious, as if wondering how she will respond.

"Holy fuck," Darcy says. Her right hand can't seem to let go of the can of Mace even though her brain is telling it that: A) the Taser would probably be a better choice, and B) She doesn't have to worry, right? Because Loki likes Tony, and Darcy likes Tony, though not _that_ way, and they should be friends. _Right?_

Loki grins. It spreads over his face like wildfire and it lights up his expression with such energy, and she's suddenly reminded of a recording she saw once of Tony, years ago, walking into an amphitheater and the crowd roaring his name, and the way his face lit up _just like that_ \- the desire and the pleasure, _give me your adoration and give me your fear._

"You are... Darcy Lewis?" he says. He has to reach a bit for the name, but she has the weirdest feeling that he's only pretending that he doesn't know _exactly_ what her name is, which is confirmed when he asks politely, "And how is Doctor Banner this evening?"

The only word Darcy can think of for this situation is surreal. But Darcy went to undergrad. She ate some brownies. She can deal with her life apparently _tripping the fuck out_. "I haven't seen him since earlier actually," she says, pasting a wide, idiot smile on her face. "Bruce told me that he had the chance to talk to you the other day in Tony's lab. Get some answers to some questions that have been bugging him."

Loki's grin peels back to show more teeth and Darcy couldn't say how but she feels like he's a little impressed- or at least not _un_ impressed- by her and he chuckles, a deep sound like a cat's purr, only it's the biggest cat she's ever fucking seen and it just might actually try to eat her. "Yes, we talked about many things. Was there something _you_ wished to speak to me about, Miss Lewis?" His eyes cant sideways to look at her without him having to turn his head, and they are bright, glowing blue.

She stares back at him. "I was in New Mexico." The words seem to come out of her throat without her actually thinking about saying them. She gets that Loki's superhumanly powerful and she heard the whole ant/boot rigmarole, but she's starting to get a little pissed off. "I Tased the fuck out of Thor when he fell on Jane's truck, and I was standing right there when your giant robot fucking _levelled_ the town where I had been living." She wonders if this is how Bruce feels; the angry words eat their way up through her to explode out and she is powerless to stop them.

Loki has tensed through her words; his smile is brittle and his eyes are glowing more, if that's even possible. "And?" he prompts her. "Are you going to tell me how it's all my fault your friends are dead? I'm a terrible person for daring to enlighten your miserable planet of the worlds that lay beyond it?"

"No, you don't get it, tough guy. I was in _New Mexico_." She steps forward and pokes Loki in the chest. "Howard Stark worked at Los Alamos, did you know that?" Loki's eyes narrow slightly and she wonders if he even knows what that means. "When it comes to blowing the shit out of _every fucking thing_ , I think Tony's got you beat."

Loki regards her. He has turned to face her fully and she applauds that she has his full, unconscious, attention. "You are worried that together we will bring destruction on your world."

Darcy laughs. "Baby, he doesn't need your help." She leans in, her eyes locking on his and her pulse thrilling. "You think you're the big bad, and you aren't even yesterday's news."

He watches her closely, and she wishes she could read what was happening behind the way his eyes flicker over her face. She can't back down and she can't think of anything to say. This close, the only thing she can do is kiss him, and that is _not_ happening, so she just holds his eyes and waits. Her pulse is roaring in her ears and she locks her jaw shut because she may run from alien robots when it's appropriate to take cover but she is _not_ backing down from this even if it kills her.

Loki smiles. It spreads slowly this time, like smoke; it is nothing like the manic grin he gave her earlier and she thinks it's closer to being honest. He is... nothing like Thor. Thor is so open, and she can see that Loki is layers upon layers upon purposeful misdirects upon layers. He reminds her of Tony again, that shell against the world with amazing inventing going on underneath, but the comparison in itself is a misdirect. "You are just the fuckingest thing ever, aren't you?" she says, and Loki surprises them both by laughing.

They've been facing off in front of the elevator and Loki reaches to push the call button for her as he says, "To keep up with Tony, I should hope so."

It's just a casual comment, like they're friends, and Darcy laughs, a quick and nerve-releasing sound. She's not exactly ready to be friends with him. He's too much like quicksilver: reactive, probably poisonous, and uniquely liquid at room temperature. But Darcy thinks she can handle seeing what happens going forward.

They step into the elevator together and Darcy says, "You know you can't be forgiven if you don't ask for forgiveness."

Loki hums in thought for a moment. "To ask forgiveness assumes that one recognizes one has done wrong."

Darcy nods. "It can also mean that you just want to start a different path."

His face splits in a broad grin again. "Dear girl, what makes you think every path I follow isn't leading toward the same destination?"

She’s not sure she’s really up for an in depth etiological, or eschatological, discussion, and the rest of the ride is quiet.

When the elevator dings for her floor, the doors open to reveal Bruce waiting for her. He looks tense, which she knows he must be to have chanced running into Betty to come looking for her here, and when his eyes dart to Loki Darcy can see something green creeping across the planes of his face. Loki grins like mayhem, but he steps back, and Darcy steps forward out of the elevator, resting her hand on Bruce's chest. Darcy's pulse is banging at her eardrums again; it's been a long night already, but she refuses to let herself be scared of Bruce of all people, and she refuses to let Loki use her to bully him.

"JARVIS, shut it," Darcy says, and she can see from the way Bruce tenses slightly more that Loki is grinning at her back. When the elevator moves away she starts stroking her fingers against Bruce's chest. "I'm fine. He didn't touch me, or do anything other than scare me silly and get me to yell at him." Her voice is low and even; she doesn't even realize she's using the soothing tone until Bruce turns to look at her.

"Yell at him?" he asks, the amusement in his tone warring with the anger.

"Oh heck yeah. He wanted to know if I thought he was a bad influence on Tony, and I told him he was a washed up, second rate pussy cat." She frowns. "Not in those exact words maybe."

Bruce is shaking, and as his arms wrap around her she realizes he's laughing. He pulls her closer and he's laughing freely, and he kisses her cheek. "I love you, Darcy Lewis." His voice is soft and amused, and his eyes are like warm pools of brown that she wants to dive into, and her breath catches in her throat.

She cups her hand against his cheek. "Why Bruce Banner, I thought I was going to be an old woman before I got you to admit to it." She leans up on her toes and plants one on his mouth, his lips parting and welcoming her in. She sighs happily. "I was going to say that I've loved you since the first time you smiled at me, but looking back now I think that was just physical. This... this is so much bigger than that." She traces her finger along his chin, meets his eyes, and with utter sincerity tells him, "I think I would even move back to New Mexico if you wanted to."

Bruce grins. "That's the nicest thing anyone's ever said to me."

 

Of course that's the same week she finally meets her boyfriend's alter ego.

She's not sure how she's never actually met Hulk before. It's one of those things that just happens... or maybe it was Bruce deliberately shielding her, which seems more probable because Darcy is usually all up in the Avengers' shit. She's not a warrior and she's not an idiot, but she likes to join them for the after party, even if that means helping clean up rubble, sitting bedside vigil at the hospital, or entertaining people (usually children) while important people are busy doing specific and important things. She likes to help out, as much as she's able, and, come to think of it, it _is_ really weird that she's never even been on the same block as her boyfriend during any sort of clean up. She's caught glimpses of the bright green of his skin, but she's always busy doing something, and he's busy doing something, and the last thing she wants to be doing here is making herself a pest.

But then there's the day that the attack happens on the edge of her campus, and that in and of itself is kind of weird- that it doesn't happen _more often_ , because Columbia isn't exactly in the best neighborhood and nothing breeds supervillains like that perfect simmer of resentment and smarts.

She's leaving the library, and the applied sciences building is on fire. This kid Cameron- he's a postgrad, and Teyla from Darcy's Wednesday class broke up with a guy who dated this skank who knows his roommate- is yelling to all the world that they had it coming, and his skin is fucking _glowing_ , and he can _throw_ _pieces of it_ , and yay, it makes things explode.  Darcy didn't notice the clouds gathering, but suddenly Cameron takes a hammer to the chest and he goes down, but doesn't stay down. Darcy can hear Thor's deep booming voice- he sounds so pleased, and he's always so fucking happy about _everything_ \- and she can feel the ground shaking under her feet.

She isn't listening to her brain, which is trying to tell her that _you know exactly why the ground is rumbling, Darcy_ , so when she turns around and Hulk comes barreling around the corner of the building with a roar she is both completely unprepared while her brain is also reminding her _yeah, you should have seen that coming._

Hulk is... God, he's fucking huge. She can't even... Her heart is beating and skipping like a CD player in a pick-up with bad suspension, and she can't even gather her thoughts enough to know _how_ to respond. Her amygdala is screaming _RUN_ , but her legs won't move because the more cognitive portion of her brain has already reasoned that running is futile. She is lesser, weaker, and all she can do is stare- at the headlights of the oncoming truck, at the hawk stooping- and just wait for the end. She's seen Bruce with that green sort of blush he gets when he's trying to hold in how pissed he is about something, and she's seen his eyes turn green when gripped by passion. But this is... this is _nothing_ like that. Hulk is a force of nature. She's seen too some of the recordings of General Ross being all butt-hurt about how the government won't let him lock Bruce in a cage, but this... She can't even imagine what he was thinking, because _this_ is something that _cannot be contained_.

Shit is happening around her; she's two buildings over and far enough away she doesn't get flattened by a random piece of concrete, but close enough that he sees her as he's breaking that concrete into pieces of a size less likely to smush people.

It's like he can feel her eyes on him, or maybe she's the _only_ idiot still standing around, staring, but Hulk swings around and fixes on her. He grunts at her and looks away, and he _crouches down to make himself smaller_ , and he sidles up next to her- he moves like this kid she knew in second grade did when he was stealing cookies from the snack plate, faster than anything that's ever been measured by scientific instruments- and she feels like he's trying to be reassuring. It's kind of beyond surreal, and he says, "Darcy."

His voice rumbles through her, and he sounds a little worried. She realizes that she's been standing there staring through the entire incident, and that everything is done, the cops have finally showed up and are talking to Ororo about taking Cameron to her place north of the city where he can get some detention time and some help, and there are people standing around the rubble trying to snap pictures of her friends and her _boyfriend_ , and she kind of swallows and says, "Yeah."

Hulk still looks worried and he growls low- it sounds like a freight train in her ear- and he seriously looks like he's thinking about running off into the city, even though that would be a really _bad_ idea, seeing as Harlem is only three blocks from where they are standing. And she is overcome by how hard he's trying to _not_ be scary, _for her_ , and she lets her lips open and the expression that wants to spread over her face does so. She's not sure it's a smile yet; it's a little too balls-to-the-wall _intense_ for that. But she swallows and she reaches out her hand toward him.

Hulk stills. It's like one of those nature videos where the deer get super still, listening, and she's never seen a human being be that still. A breath comes whooshing out of him, slowly, and he reaches his hand toward her. Something stops him before his hand touches hers, but she doesn't think about it and she reaches the last few inches and lets her fingers curl tightly around the edge of his hand. He's breathing quickly, his eyes fixed on her, and she wonders vaguely if he's hyperventilating.

It's probably perfect that Tony lands next to them in that moment. Darcy hasn't been paying attention to anything but she would put money on the fact that Tony was watching them, waiting to see if she was going to blow this. Darcy wonders suddenly if she can get Tony to take her money, or if he might be willing to gamble with something more interesting.

Hulk only tenses slightly as Iron Man approaches, his eyes going from Darcy to Tony but his hand not moving. Tony pops the faceplate on the suit and grins. "Is it date night? You guys want to do a double?"

And Darcy _laughs_ , and she _can't stop_ , until she is hanging off of Hulk, gripping his fingers as the only thing holding her up, because the very idea is such utter preposterousness and she can see Loki and Hulk facing each other over the table, Tony just eating it up. Hulk seems to agree with her, because he is glaring at Tony, though she supposes that could be because Tony is the one who made her wheeze like she can't breathe. Hulk grumbles under his breath and before she can realize what is happening he's scooped her into his hand to hide her away and he's giving Tony the stink eye.

Tony doesn't know how to leave things alone and he comes forward and leans his crossed arms on the edge of Hulk's fingers and grins down at Darcy. "I'm guessing that's a no," he says, but then he sobers, and he backs off and says, "I'll leave you two to sort yourselves out." He hesitates for a moment, as if he's waiting for Darcy to speak, but he starts hovering in the air and then before she could say anything even if she wanted to he's flying away.

Darcy looks up. And up. She takes a deep breath and says, "Hey big guy." And she flatters herself that her voice sounds the same as it does when she's talking to Bruce.

Hulk makes a sound like a distant rumble of thunder. "Darcy," he says. "Be careful."

She smiles softly, her fingers brushing over the skin of his palm. "Yeah, I will. I usually am. I've got my Taser, and my Mace. This was a bit above my pay grade, huh, with the exploding globs of skin? I'm glad you were here." He huffs. "You especially," she repeats. "I mean, the others are cool, and Thor's always at his best when he's throwing his hammer"- Hulk glowers- "but you're my favorite. You being awesome and smashing all the bad things. Actually," she's sure she probably shouldn't be saying this, she should definitely be shutting up, "Bruce is my favorite. I love the way his eyes crinkle when he's thinking about something," and Hulk glowers at her," yeah, just like that." She pokes her finger in his forehead. "I love the way he smiles, and I want him to be..." she fumbles for a word, " _happy_ , not just living because he has to but really enjoying it." She pauses and looks at Hulk. "I want to get to know you better, and I want you to be happy, too."

He glares at her, harshly, and she thinks maybe she pushed it too hard. "Banner stupid," he says, and her heart falls. He glances over to where Ororo, Thor, Sean, and Betsy are escorting Cameron away and he sighs. "Banner stupid," he repeats, "but Darcy help protect Banner." He eyes her appraisingly.

Darcy grins at him. "Boy howdy," she promises solemnly.

He sets her back on the ground and leans forward. She's not really sure what he's doing, but then he starts shrinking, his skin washing pale. Darcy's not sure if it's better for her to touch him or not, so she folds her hands under her elbows and crouches beside him in the grass of the common and waits.

It doesn't take long before he's completely Bruce. Bruce looks around himself, seeming every inch dazed and confused, and he tenses when he sees her. "Are you okay?" he asks immediately. He sounds like he's already bracing himself for the answer he expects to hear.

She wants to make a joke, to make him laugh, but she really looks at the fear in his expression and she can only smile and reach out to lay her hand on his arm. She pushes the hair the wrong way then brushes it all back down, her fingers curling around his wrist. He takes a breath and his hand turns, his fingers interlacing with hers. She leans against him, and he turns toward her, hiding his face in her hair. His breathing hitches, and she wonders if he's crying.

"I'm thinking Applied Sciences is a terrible name for that building. They should call it Architect's Punishment. If I ask Tony for money, do you think he'd let you and me design a better one? I bet he'd badger the board into letting us do it. He likes badgering people."

Bruce laughs, though it's caught somewhere between a hiccup and a chuckle, not the sound she usually dreams about inspiring from him. "Are you angling for an architect's degree as well?"

She snorts. "Do you think whoever designed this building originally had one? Because it's terrible." To be fair, the building isn't that bad, it's mostly just an unfortunate shade of mustard that 1973 probably thought would be hip forever and that a massive exploding-skin based chemical fire along one side of it has not improved. Tony is flying back toward them and she waves. Tony waves back before landing. The faceplate comes up and he smiles at Darcy, an honest to God smile, and Darcy's not sure she's ever seen him make that expression before without turning it into a grin or a leer.

"You ready to go get changed, or you want to head out for date night as is?" The smile melts into a fierce grin. "I'm good either way."

Darcy flips him the bird and starts trying to push herself to her feet. Bruce is on his feet and helping her before she gets far, and as his steady hands pull her up she leans forward against the firm expanse of his chest. "I think we should stay in tonight," she says huskily and bites her lip.

Bruce is staring at her, mesmerized. She's not sure if it's her, or if it's just that no one before has ever been so turned on by his hairy chest that they've forgotten the brain-melting fear they were feeling twenty seconds ago.

Tony laughs and throws Bruce's clothing at him so that Bruce has to break the stare in order to catch it. Bruce glowers at Tony who only gestures behind him. "Braddock went with Storm; your turn to bring back the quinjet," he says before he flies off.

"I didn't get to ask him about the building," Darcy grouses, but then Bruce slides a hand along her chin and guides her mouth to his and he's kissing her, in the middle of Columbia campus, and all Darcy can do is bury her hands in his hair and ask him for more.

At some point he pulls his clothes on, though he's blushing so hard already Darcy figures it's probably not worth it, and they go back to the quinjet and fly it back to the Tower.

They stay in and cook, and after a few glasses of wine, and the day that today was, Darcy is flirting and relaxed in a way that soon has Bruce joining her.

And well into the night, after dinner and sex, when Bruce falls asleep there's a moment when he opens his eyes again and they are pure green. He raises his hand to run his fingers down her cheek and he grunts what sounds like it could be approval. He closes his eyes again, and both of him are asleep.

Darcy curls against him and smiles.

 

 

The proposed double date ends up being less explosive than Darcy envisioned or Tony hoped, but Bruce gets shot, Hulk makes an appearance, and somehow Loki refrains from killing anyone. Darcy's not sure how that all happened, but hey, this is her life, isn't it?

At least she got Tony to bet with something more interesting than money.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soundtrack listing: "Captain Crash and the Beauty Queen from Mars" was written by E Richie Sambora and Jon Bon Jovi, and is performed by Bon Jovi.  
> Notes:  
> \- Charade: a 1963 romance mystery film starring Audrey Hepburn and Cary Grant. They have an age difference of 25 years. While by no means the best or most interesting thing about the movie, it is the reason it's mentioned in this story.  
> \- Howard and the Manhattan Project: In Iron Man, Tony says that his dad worked on the Manhattan Project, and later in the movie Stane makes a crack about how Howard gave the world the atom bomb. Given what we later learn, it seems likely that Howard was probably _not_ a part of the Manhattan Project within the timeline of the MCU. But, since it was generally assumed to be a fact at one point and Darcy probably doesn't know a lot of details about the subject anyway, it felt like a fun thing for her to throw at Loki.


	5. I Am a Traveler of Both Time and Space, To Be Where I Have Been

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Loki deals with Phoenix and prepares for the arrival of Thanos.

**Location:** Universe YOSLY, Designation: Delta  
Large Magellanic Cloud  
Tarantula Nebula  
7 years pre-anomaly  
_(29 hours after Loki's failed invasion)_

The Phoenix is dancing through the white hot plasma of newborn stars.

Loki is only barely watching her, his mind rather more given to the raging inferno of power inside him. It is unlike anything he's ever felt before, and he knows why Thanos prizes it so highly. Even more, he knows that Thanos must never be allowed this.

But that is useless speculation in any case. The power is his, power over space itself, and he will use it before he allows it to fall to another.

From the corner of his eye he sees Phoenix cease to be enthralled with the nebula, and he snatches her from where she rests in space, and moves them both to another section of the nebula. To have this power over her is even headier; it flows through him, burning his veins with its purity. Within the nebula, he reclines on a particle of interstellar flotsam just large enough to suit him and lies back to watch his prey more closely.

But she is no longer interested with eating stars, and Dark Phoenix takes the form of her human host and sits beside him. She winks molten eyes at him, and flicks back her fire-red hair. _"Why do you care if I singe Earth a bit?"_ she asks, and he realizes that she has been rooting about in his mind. _"Everything burns, in the end."_

He raises an eyebrow at her. "There's little use in being a king of a scorched and lifeless realm."

She laughs. _"I can see your mind,"_ she confirms. _"Do not think you can hide it from me. Your true desire was never to rule the Earth."_ She leans back against their seat. Every move is sensuous and her manner is open, inviting. _"You seek a larger kingdom."_

He does not answer, either her words or her motions. She laughs at him. He ignores her, lifting a hand and allowing motes of light to flow over his skin, coaxing it into flares and shapes of blue fire. The Space Stone gives him access to every space in reality, to warp and bend it to his will, and Dark Phoenix would do well to remember that.

 _"Oooh, I'm shaking in my boots."_ She stands, steps forward, and does a perfect swan dive off the chunk of rock and into the gasses of the nebula. She takes the form of a huge bird, winging through the interstellar cloud. _"You know, there's no one else here. No one to impress. No one to lie to."_ She does a double barrel roll, twirling up over and around him to repeat the maneuver, the nebular gasses trailing through her wings. _"You can't lie to me. Why not talk to me?"_ She banks and hovers before him, cocking her head to the side. _"I want to learn more. I want to experience more."_

"I do not exist to amuse you," Loki snaps, patience worn by her tone.

She laughs. The woman is back, sitting across his lap. Her arms rest across his shoulders and she looks down at him. _"Everything exists to a purpose. How can you tell me this is not yours?"_

Loki gives her a thin smile, lips pulled tight against his teeth. "You are far too annoying for that to be the case."

Her eyes flare with avarice. She pushes him back until he is lying under her. _"And you are far too unique to be for anything other than me."_ Her tongue traces the seam of his lips. _"You taste like gold and ice."_

He turns away and shoves her off of him, the power of the Tesseract throwing her from his resting place. She twists through space and laughs. _"You lie, little liar. Your very skin is a lie."_ And with a flick of her own fingers she tears Odin's magic from him.

He feels stripped naked and cold, his rough and unfamiliar skin exposed here to the emptiness of the stars. With an incoherent, angry cry he reaches for her, trying to rip back what is his. Tesseract blue fire flares against her own golden-red energy.

 _"You are not stronger, not with your borrowed power,"_ she reminds him. _"It is great, greater than you. But not greater than I. You bend it to your will, but only barely can you control it."_

That may be true, but Loki fell through the abyss of the universe. He survived Thanos' attempts to bend him to the Mad Titan's will. Loki grew up in the shadow of Thor, in a world where everything he _is_ was never enough. "Perhaps," he tells her, his red eyes hard. "But I want it more." He grits his teeth and grasps her arm. Dark Phoenix screams as she is pierced through with ice. The coldness of it invades her very being, and she flickers and hangs like a dead thing from his hand.

Loki takes back Odin's magic. He can feel it dancing around his fingers. He can feel the way it belongs against his skin. But the Phoenix is right, too. _Here, there is no one to see you._ He holds out his hand and looks at it. He is sickened by the unfamiliar hue; the darkness of his fingernails makes him want to vomit, and the lines drawn across his skin make him feel like an alien entity in his own body. But this is him, his true self. It is foolishness to deny it though every atom of his soul wants to. Didn't he always know that he didn't belong? The rough cukoo in the family of sleek ravens, playing tricks and never knowing the greatest one was being played on him. He takes Odin's magic and pools it in his hand. Lifting it, he drinks the power; it would not do to be wasteful. He sculpts himself a new skin. It is from his power, boosted by the Tesseract's infinite energy, and it is from his memory so it will be how he remembers himself appearing, and that will be who he is now.

The Phoenix stirs.

"You are indeed the Phoenix," Loki sneers. "You cannot even stay dead long enough to be missed."

She blinks up at him. Her eyes are green. "What happened? Where am I?"

Loki pauses. "Do not play your games with me, Dark Phoenix."

"Oh God," she moans. She clutches her hands into fists. "What have I done?" She struggles against his grasp. "Please, tell me what happened."

Her distress is genuine. Loki sets her on the rocky ground of his bit of interstellar flotsam. "Of your tale, Phoenix, I know only the bits of the journey you have shared with me. When you crossed my path I brought you here." He gestures to the nebula. "Otherwise you would have destroyed Midgard. As it is lies within the branches of Yggdrasil, I could not allow that."

She shivers. "I killed people." Her voice is uncertain.

Loki raises an eyebrow; he wasn't exactly paying attention and he really doesn't care.

She rests her head in her hands and moans.

Loki sighs. "You were more entertaining when you were showing off."

She raises her tear-stained face to glare at him. "I am not here to _entertain_ you," she hisses. Her eyes still snap with Phoenix fire and her words are too familiar.

He doesn't care about her self-flagellation, but, having long been both a victim and a victimizer in a society that glorifies spectacle, he can empathize with desiring privacy for the expression of pain. He allows, generously, "Since you no longer seem intent on destroying Midgard, you are free to go your way." He moves to leave her.

"Wait!" Even more than she dislikes being the object of his scorn, he can see she is terrified to be alone. "Wh... Where am I? What is going on? Who _are_ you? How do I even find Earth from here?"

Loki frowns. "Do you not understand your powers at all?" It is truly amazing, how helpless she is as a vessel. He wonders if he can somehow steal the Phoenix Force from her control; the power of the Space Stone pulses under his skin in interest.

She shakes her head. There is a calculating look on her face as she looks within. "I... can feel it. When I... when I saved the Blackbird, it came to me. I wanted so badly to help my friends that I called out for that aid and... it came to me, this... force, this energy. It called itself the Phoenix. I almost died. I... I thought I did die. But it came out, and it wouldn't let me die." She looks at him. "My name is Jean."

He rolls his eyes and does not respond.

Jean stares at him. She is almost childlike as she stretches herself out in her power, and she reaches out for his mind. "Oh," she exclaims in soft wonder, "I can see it." She takes hold of his chin, forcing him to look back at her. Loki's lip curls in a snarl, but she is still Phoenix; while the Tesseract will grant him dominion over space, her power comes from the life of the universe itself. She reads over the recent past through his eyes. When she realizes what she has done, she breaks away suddenly. "I'm sorry," she says. "I... I'm not supposed to do that without asking." She seems confused. "I think. Right?" She looks at him and narrows her eyes. "No, I remember I'm not supposed to read people's minds without their permission. It's rude. But you're rude enough already. I don't think the Professor would mind if I..." She trails off, looking suddenly lost. "I think I did something," she whispers. "Something very bad."

Loki laughs harshly. "You are the Phoenix. You shape the universe with your whims."

She fixes him with her sharp, birdlike gaze. "Then why would you interfere with me?"

Loki gives her a sly look. " _He_ would have been far too pleased with such destruction."

She has been in his mind and the antecedent of that pronoun gives her pause. "The Mad Titan," she murmurs, Phoenix-fire licking at her edges as that name unsettles her, Phoenix-knowledge giving her more than enough reason to run screaming at the mention. "I thought he had been cast from this galactic region long ago."

The Tesseract's power shivers through his veins and Loki's lip curls in a humorless grin. "He has a long reach. And if he can reach all the way to the Yggdrasil I cannot have you destroying parts of it. Indeed," and his expression is self-deprecating, "it takes a specific madness to desire such a thing."

"It was wrong of me," Jean says, "to take people's lives. Not just because it fuels his power."

Loki sighs. "Your tune is sour in the ear I've heard it so often. Right, wrong, it doesn't stop the powerful from doing as they please."

Jean shakes her head stubbornly. "That's why it's so important to do right. Especially for those who are powerful."

Loki rolls his eyes. "You should talk to my brother; your conversational topics would strike more resonance." But he remembers that he doesn't have a brother, only lies.

The anger rises in him again, and Loki stands apart from her impatiently. "Right, wrong," he says again, mockingly. " _Life_. Words are easy to say. Can you do anything with them? What does it matter, even if you can?" He gestures to the nebula around him. "Stars are born here. They exist, burn out, die, and are forgotten. Whether or not they produce planets that sustain life has no impact on this process."

The Phoenix stirs. _"Nothing is forgotten,"_ she says, her voice booming in its power. _"Not by me."_ She rises from her seat and walks off their piece of flotsam, walks out into space. The void is like a solid road to her, and she looks down at the nebula. _"I am the mother of stars. Death and life are merely parts in a cycle and I watch over every step. Everything that exists dies, eventually. But I... I took them, too many and too soon. They did not have the time they needed to grow and to explore their purpose."_

"Not everything that exists has purpose," Loki says.

She turns to him. Her eyes are white fire and she cocks her head, as if listening. _"Everything has purpose,"_ she says with finality.

"Juggling geese," is Loki's rejoinder.

The Phoenix smiles fondly. _"Whimsy is purpose enough for some."_

He rolls his eyes and lays back on his flotsam. "I think I liked you better when you were trying to seduce me."

She makes a soft noise of sadness, looking out at the nebula. _"Scott,"_ she says. It is a small word, but to the voice that says it, the word holds more importance than anything else.

Loki is bored, and growing angry. Maybe he will just leave her. There is nothing really holding him now- other than the opportunity to steal her power, an opportunity he can feel diminishing.

 _"_ Professor, _"_ she murmurs. She turns to fix Loki with her fiery eyes and when she speaks, the words seem to strike him physically. _"I killed the man who was my father in all things but blood,"_ she says. _"He taught me, and he lied to me. He did what he thought was best for me. In hindsight perhaps it was not the right thing, but who can say if a different choice of his would have changed anything?"_

Loki bristles. "I feel as though you are deliberately attempting to draw forth from me feelings of remorse." He glares at her. "I have none."

Her eyes are heavy on him. _"That is a lie."_

He stands, fists balled and Tesseract fire flaring around him. "I regret nothing!" he yells at her. "Least, of all my actions, the taking of the insignificant lives of mortals."

She does not react to his show of emotion. _"Is life not the sweeter, the shorter it is?"_ Loki laughs, but the sound is forced and stilted. The Phoenix holds his gaze. _"You know it, don't you? The truth."_

"What truth?" Loki sneers.

The Phoenix surges toward him suddenly. _"There is no throne,"_ she says to him. _"No version of this where you come out on top."_

Loki steps back, ashen. He wants to ask her how she knows those words, but his tongue is frozen in his mouth.

Her eyes are infinite and tender. _"This is your true remorse: that with all you have done, you have not succeeded. You could never succeed."_ She touches his cheek softly. _"He could never give it to you."_ There are tears on her face. _"Odin's regard is not a prize to be won."_

He tries to pull away, but can't. "How... How can you know this?" His voice is so ravaged by his own unshed tears that he does not recognize it. The emptiness of the space around them seems suddenly all the more appropriate, as it reflects an emptiness within him. He feels like he is falling through the abyss again.

 _"I know,"_ she says simply. _"I know all things."_ Her voice sounds young for a moment, like a child's. _"I... I cannot live with what I have done to them, but I cannot die and forget."_

It is as though the Space Stone has left him powerless, and Loki is falling, falling from the Bifrost, Thor's hand reaching for him. Loki cannot take that hand; it is not within his nature. "You are weak," he tells the Phoenix, but he knows she can see the words he will not say- that he knows the same pain of being denied the sought after darkness, if for different reasons.

She shivers, white light rippling over her form. _"I know that I am not ready. I cannot go back. I cannot face them. I will sleep with the stars for a while."_ She leans forward and kisses his forehead. _"Thank you."_

"Wait," he calls her.

When she turns back to him she is Jean again. "Tell Scott I'm sorry." She hides her face in her hands. "I'm so sorry." She turns away, and the Phoenix wings its way into the collapsing molecular cloud that will become the heart of a star.

Her benediction is a warm flare of energy against his forehead that seems to settle against his skin, but he is truly alone now. Loki wants to release the energy of the Tesseract and let it consume the nebula. It would be pointless, so he pulls the rage back into him and pushes it down. "The only thing more useless than remorse," he tells the absent Phoenix, "is regret."

He closes his eyes and vanishes from that place.

 

* * *

 

Asgard

With the Space Stone at his command, it requires merely a thought to bring himself to any place within the cosmos. When he opens his eyes he is in his own rooms.

When he steps into the study, the room is dark but for the starlight coming in through the tall windows. Everything lies where he left it, what feels like a thousand lifetimes ago. Clothing is in piles on the floor; he touches the page of the book that sits, open, on the table. "What a child I was," he says to the empty air. "To know so little of the universe."

"You were always wiser than many." Frigga steps out of the shadows.

He is not surprised to see her. She may not be his blood, but she is the mother of his soul, and, more importantly here, his talents.

"I felt you come," she confirms. She steps to the other side of the table and takes the edge of it in her hands. "Loki," she says.

He steps away, turning to the window.

"Loki," she says again and her voice is chiding, truly that of a mother. "You have done many things that you should not have done."

He sighs. "And you also seek my remorse. This is becoming tedious."

"No," she says. That surprises him and he looks at her. Her eyes shine and she is smiling hopefully. "I seek to find if you have _learned_ anything from these events."

He does not want to but he can't stop from smiling at her. "I have learned many things, Allmother." The title is a spear on his tongue and he sees her flinch from it.

Frigga's expression grows stern. "You may be changed from the boy who lived in these quarters, you may be aged beyond the man who left them in this disarray, but you are still my son." She takes a deep breath. "I must follow my husband's wishes," she says, and Loki bristles. "But," Frigga's eyes lock on his. "He cannot command my heart, and I will give my love to all my children, especially those I had not the privilege of giving life to."

Loki feels her breaking through his walls and he pulls back again. She does not pursue him as he retreats across the room. "I... do not know," Loki says eventually, because she is right: she is his mother, and she was always the best at helping him to find his way through the maze of a lesson to the truth at its core. "I _have_ learned many things. But, I am not sure the sense I can make of them."

There is silence between them for a moment. Frigga's fingers touch the edge of the pages of the book that lies open on the table and she does not look up at Loki. "It was him, wasn't it? Thanos." Her voice is firm, her tone bloodthirsty, as she gives name to what became Loki's nightmare. Even here, in this safe place, the desperation licks the back of his throat and he has to open his mouth to remember how to breathe.

He can see he need not give her any answer. His fingers bloodless they are so tightly clenched, his fists trembling, these are her answer. He was delivered from the void to the Other, who brought him them to the Titan himself as a gift; but he fought his own way out of that place of emptiness, of unmaking and remaking, and it holds no power over him now. For all Thanos' grasping, for all his attempts to bend all things to his own will, Loki possesses the Space Stone, and Thanos does not. Loki looks up to find Frigga staring at him, her face suffused with such fierce pride that he is taken aback.

Frigga nods. She steps back from the table. "I wish you good journey, my son." Loki is surprised; he thought departing her presence freely would require far more guile. Frigga smiles at his confusion. "You are seeking something. I believe you have seen many ways that will not help you find it, but you have not yet found the one that _will_." She hesitates, but comes across the room to him and kisses his cheek. He stands and allows her close. "Take care of yourself. And, check in on your brother from time to time, hmm?"

Loki feels every muscle in him tense, but Frigga pats his cheek and leaves. The room is empty. It is like the cavern of the nebula and its emptiness repels him. He flees.

 

* * *

 

New York City

The Tesseract calls to its like, and it responds to an echo. It is not a truly conscious thought, but he finds himself on Midgard.

He stands on the walkway of the tower where he led an invasion, less than days ago. In the night the city is cut with swathes of darkness beneath him. He turns; he can feel what drew him to this place in the space behind him.

In the ruins of the living space he finds Tony Stark. The man is collapsed against the side of the bar where he mixed his drink earlier and spoke his words of threat. He is sitting on the floor, slumped over with exhaustion. There are dark circles under his eyes and his face is tight with pain. His suit of armor lies scattered in pieces across the floor, except for the left gauntlet which is bent around the hand it holds.

Loki stares at him. In the battle with Phoenix, Stark released him from his bonds. He reaches for the human now, grasping him by his gauntleted left hand and raising him from the ground. Stark stirs only slightly in his grip, but Loki can feel someone watching him. He narrows his eyes and dismisses the sensation. He starts to set the human back down, but when his ankle touches the floor Stark twitches and makes a pained sound that is almost enough to overcome his fatigue and bring him to waking.

"I would recommend that you do not harm him further," a polite voice says.

Loki freezes, waiting. The voice says nothing else and Loki reaches with his free hand to grasp the ankle in question. The human is still wearing clothing, but in the opening between trouser leg and shoe Loki places his hand against skin. He can feel that the small bones and tendons are twisted all wrong. So fragile. He frowns. "And if I do not harm him," he asks the voice. "What will happen?"

There is a pause. "If you do not intend injury to Mister Stark, then I have no reason to report your arrival to anyone else."

Loki laughs. "You expect me to believe you have not already done so?"

The voice does not sound as if it cares what he believes. "My purpose is to assist Mister Stark. I am not currently programed with further protocols concerning yourself."

Programed? "You are a machine," Loki says in realization.

"I understand that you come from a different world, and if that limited description is all that you can comprehend then so be it." The voice's tone is long-suffering and deliciously condescending.

Loki laughs again, and he is curious. He reaches out and wraps his hand around the injured ankle. Stark twitches and moans in his grip, but it is over before he can do more than sigh and fall back into the depth of his exhausted sleep. "And if I do less than harm to your master, voice? What then?"

There is a pause and Loki can tell the voice is evaluating his words, testing with its own ways to see that the bones and tendons are back straight and unbroken.  "If you would," the voice says, unfailingly polite, "place him on the bed in the next room."

Loki carries the human into the next room and lays him on the edge of the large bed. He twists a strand of Tesseract power between his fingers and sends it in between the facets of the gauntlet, pushing them open and pulling the device from the human's hand. He holds it in his own hand for long moments, then steals a sideways glance at Stark. There is a warm glow coming from the human's chest. Loki can feel the hum of the energy; in a way that he doesn't understand, he knows that this is what brought him here, as the energy within him hums back in chorus. He reaches out a hand.

"Do not touch him again," the voice says. It is hard and firm, and Loki stops in his movement. He understands the withholding of trust, but he is suddenly tired of limits, of games of half speak, and he leaves in a shimmer of blue fire.

 

* * *

  
Alfheim

Loki can wish that the Infinity Stones were scattered along the boughs of Yggdrasil. They would have been so easy for him to gather up, hidden along the ways he knows so well. To gather up and to use: to destroy Thanos; to win Asgard.

In the quiet, echoing halls of the library of the elves, Loki remembers moments of peace that do not feel as if they are able to touch him anymore. This is a familiar place. The cool halls, the whisper of trees in the breeze, the smell of parchment, and the soft hum of magic. He walks the halls, his fingers running over texts and scrolls as he moves between the shelves. The library is huge, and as a child Loki loved it all the more for that; he was quite capable of getting lost there for days.

The library is a fount of knowledge on all subjects, not just the magical texts he often came for first, but also texts on war craft, and on simple healing, which aided him in his life with Thor; Loki pauses, his hands curling into fists, but forces himself to keep walking. The library was also an excellent place for finding victims for pranks. Scholars too interested in their own studies to pay attention to their surroundings were often wont to walk back to their tables to find they had selected the wrong scroll for their research, to have their spell pronunciations mocked by disembodied voices that followed them through the halls, or to open their texts to find a hive of stinging insects had taken up residence within.

Much as it did on Midgard something here calls him. It is a pale echo of the pull he felt on Midgard, but he follows it. He traces the faint call through room after room, halls of marble and woven branches, finally finding the source.

It is an unassuming red stone that fits easily in his palm. It is neither shiny nor faceted; when he touches it with magic it reveals no useful properties, such as storage or magnification of energy. There is something... but it is as if the echo of what pulled Loki to it is an echo that sounds deep within the stone, calling someone, and somewhere, else entirely. It is not an Infinity Stone, but it is as if the stone _remembers_ being one. It intrigues him and, though he could not say why, he pockets the stone.

 

* * *

  
Morag

The Space Stone touches every part of space, and it calls to its fellow Infinity Stones. Only one of them lies within Yggdrasil- the one he himself brought to Midgard- but there are four others to be found. If Loki is still for long enough, he can hear the Stones, speaking to each other even across the vastness of the universe.

The Space Stone is also filled with infinite energy, so being still long enough to listen is difficult. When Loki manages it, the Space Stone pulls him to a dead planet. He paces through decaying halls covered with crumbling refuse to a hidden temple.

There is a woman there, and she whirls to face him, face twisted in a snarl. Loki recoils in shock, because he knows her. He can't remember her name, but he remembers her being there, with the Titan. They face each other in the small space of the temple.

"You cannot have it," she says. Her face is resolute, dark eyes snapping; he can see she will give her life before she relinquishes the Stone to him. "You cannot take it to him. I will not let you."

Loki pauses. She has recognized him as well, it seems. "And where would you take it, Thanos' daughter?" he mocks.

She raises her hand, which bears a knife with a blade as long as her forearm. "Thanos will _not_ have it," she says in a voice of steel.

Loki regards her for a moment. This might work in his favor. Thanos will _not_ have the Stones- in this they are in agreement. There are two options that Loki sees: to gather the stones himself, or to take them and hide them more carefully. The more Loki collects the more of a target he becomes and the easier it will be for Thanos to find him, while he will also still be incomplete in his goal. So, it could be to his advantage to leave some of them free of his control, but where he can find them again, while actively avoiding Thanos on someone else's energy. "Thanos will not have it," he echoes her words.

She lowers the blade slightly, watching him. She has learned restraint in a hard school and her face shows none of what passes through her mind. But he is fairly certain she can see that he already possesses the Space Stone. She nods shortly.

"Gamora." He remembers her name, at the last.

She narrows her eyes. "Loki."

There are no other words between them. They have both been to a place of unmaking, but they did not travel there together so there is no camaraderie in survival. All they share is a burning desire to remove power from the one who would gather it.

He leaves her there.

 

* * *

  
Earth  
_Kenya_

Loki returns to Yggdrasil. Listening for the Stones is tiresome, and he wishes to rest. There is another echo on Midgard, but Loki almost doesn't want to search for it. He is fairly certain it is Stark again, and he does not want to deal with that at the moment.

 

While on Midgard, he checks in on Thor. It is not because Frigga asked it of him, but in a way it is.

Thor is in Africa. He lounges on a broad flat rock beneath the spreading branches of an acacia tree, a dark-skinned, white-haired woman smiling down at him. Loki watches, invisible, as Thor smiles back at her, and there is such contentment in his face that Loki hates him all the more passionately. Thor has always been so pleased to take what is laid before him and not ever seek for something deeper. A deeper purpose in what he has been given. A double meaning in words spoken. A more difficult path that will yield a greater reward, when the one before him yields well enough. It drives Loki mad that Thor is satisfied in his exile when the purity of the power that lies within the Space Stone burns at Loki's veins and will not give him peace.

 

A part of Loki will not admit it, but it is Thor that drives him back to New York. Stark is drinking his liquor, looking down at the city spread below him like offerings before an emperor, and he smirks at Loki when he sees him.

"Thanks," he says. "You saved the world. Honestly, I don't think anyone else could have done it."

 

* * *

 

The Space Stone spins Loki back out into the universe. He has been called the Skytraveler; never before has that name felt more appropriate. The energy within him is restless.

He searches the universe for the remaining stones. His inability to find them is not, as yet, particularly troubling; to have found what he has found in such a short time is amazing. But he does not stop looking. What he does not find Thanos will seek out, and even though the energy within him pulses with desire to be joined with its brethren it also seems conscious enough to shrink from the idea of Thanos.

Or perhaps that is only his own mind.

The universe is a large place. Searching it all, even with the aid he has, will take time. And there are other interesting things which catch at his attention.

 

* * *

  
New York

Loki tries to stay away, but something calls him back to Midgard. To New York. Stark has an amazing ability to speak and not say anything of sense, and yet infuriate and intrigue Loki at the same time. He hums with the energy of the universe and Loki would know why. Would know how a human came to possess such power. Confronting Stark seems counterproductive at the moment so he follows and watches the Avengers as they battle.

When Skurge the Executioner's axe grazes too close to the object of Loki's interest, he takes it as a personal slight. He rectifies the problem.

He appears to Stark again. He's not sure why, though truly he knows that he is seeking the same recognition he was given before. _No one else could have done it._ But it is asinine, should insects thank the creatures that do not step on them? And why does he care? Does _he_ want praise from such mayflies? And yet, he is curious.

_You're an arrogant, selfish prick and a horrible, murdering bastard, but you saved the world. So, thanks. Honestly, I don't think anyone else could have done it._

And even though he would not admit to it, Loki finds himself nonplussed when he does _not_ receive that praise. Instead everything Stark does is not quite what Loki expects, down to accepting Loki's advances.

Sex is a useful tool for drawing an opponent out into a feeling of safety where they will expose vulnerability, and Loki knows from the information he gathered before that Stark likes sex. Quite a lot. That practice shows; he is not a poor lover, for a mortal. Stark is warm and eager, and in the madness of the recent past Loki had forgotten how _pleasurable_ such contact can feel.

No one is more surprised than Loki when Stark is the one who draws _him_ out and brings him back, seeking more. Obviously, he learns the source of that hum of power and that would draw him back to it- would draw him to devour that power and take it into himself. But to learn that Stark _made_ it, the device which fills the hole in his chest and sparks with the whisper of the universe; it is almost unthinkable to discover that a mortal had such ambition and the authority to come so far with it.

 

And maybe that is what brings him back again, and again. It is not Tony so much as it is the mystery of Tony- how can such a brief creature as a mortal contain such ambition, such will, such passion, and _also_ the knowledge to attain the goals he strives for? It is baffling, and yet if he looks into himself Loki knows that the world is not what he was taught it was. He is not born of Asgard. He is not part of what he learned as a child was a race of beings raised up to be above all the others. It makes him laugh, bitterly. Perhaps everything he knows is wrong, and there are times he waits for the curtain to be pulled back to reveal that his life is nothing more than a mummer's farce performed before the Allfather's throne, Odin laughing at him and his attempts to force himself into a mold that would never fit.

_"Everything exists to a purpose. How can you tell me this is not yours?"_

_"I seek to find if you have_ learned _anything from these events."_

So he wanders, as the Space Stone dictates, but his curiosity and fascination keep drawing him back to Tony. Before he can even choose such a thing consciously Tony has slipped under his skin. Tony is chaotic and changeable, and nigh insatiable when it comes to the consumption of information, but he is not duplicitous. There is a fierce honesty that colors his every interaction with Loki. It is the honesty of a man who had been lied to for a long time and who has chosen a harsh truthfulness when dealing with himself. It flickers like a candle beside Loki's own tangled flame that he does not wish to deal with just yet.

 

* * *

 

Sanctuary  
(Thanos' domain)  
_6 years pre-anomaly_

It is not that Loki seeks trouble, but Thanos is a problem that must be dealt with. They can sit at either end of the galaxy licking their wounds and gathering Stones, but that truly suits neither of them. Loki must destroy Thanos. He can gather or bury the Infinity Stones, but hiding them was only ever a buying of time, not an endgame. That the Mad Titan is indeed quite mad is none of Loki's concern, but he is bent on recovering what slipped through his grasp and Loki will not have that.

As Loki searches around the edges of the galaxy for what they both seek, poking his nose into places only the Space Stone's power can pull him from, he finds again that place he fell to before, and the one who thinks he can command Loki to do his will.

Though what he is actually faced with are Thanos' dogs, eager for the bloodshed that will feed their master.

It is truly a fierce battle, fueled by desperation on both sides- or perhaps a _desperateness_ , a need to prove and a need to be proved. Both sides come away bloodied and exhausted.

 

* * *

 

New York

Loki retreats to his own sanctuary, Tony's penthouse where none others may breach the door without Tony's consent. Tony comes to him there, as Tony always is- full of the desire for information, the giving and taking of it. Loki learns that he has been gone longer than he thought. And that Thor knows where to find him.

It is troubling. The purpose of a sanctuary is that no one can find him when he must hide himself there. But he is too worn at the moment to seek out another and so he sleeps under Tony's hands.

 

He wakes to find Tony lying beside him, lost to his own rest. "JARVIS," he asks, having learned the name of the voice. "Where is Thor?"

"Mister Odinson is currently on the roof with Ms Monroe." And though Loki did not ask for it, JARVIS continues, “He retreated there after his attempt to enter the penthouse several hours ago.”

Loki tenses. "Thor was here?"

"Indeed, sir. Mister Stark would not permit him entry and he withdrew to the roof and was joined by Ms Monroe."

Loki turns to the body lying beside him. Tony's features are slack with sleep and he looks as though he is in need of that respite. Loki's fingers trace along the lines of Tony's face as he moves closer to Tony, pressing his forehead against Tony's and sighing out a deep breath. It appears his sanctuary was well chosen, and Loki cannot stop the smile that spreads over his face or the pride- and perhaps some other, warmer, emotion that he will not name- that wells up within him. He relaxes fully against Tony, and plans some mischief.

 

 

Having failed for the time being in his plans to make the universe a safer place for himself, Loki sets about winning the trust of Tony's friends. It is a double plan; Tony wishes this, so he will be assuaged, and it is always good to test the boundaries of his sanctuary, to see if there are any weak points where an enemy might breach.

Doctor Banner is laughably easy to manipulate. There is a confidence to him in that he is aware of his beast’s ability to physically dominate Loki, and it makes him careless when it comes to subtler battles. Loki offers him words. The truth of them is the perfection of the lie. Tony himself is the first to point out the difference between truth and fact. The fact is that Loki has already lost everything. Perhaps he desires Tony's company- the brilliance of his mind, the fearless arts of his mouth and fingers- but it is something he has already prepared himself to lose. There is nothing there which threat can use to bind him.

Tony asked that he mend what was broken with the Hawk. There is not much Loki can offer him; he himself knows how wounds dealt to the spirit do not heal, but Loki also knows how catharsis can simulate healing and provide a balm.

The Widow is the one who gives him the most trouble, who comes the closest to tearing away his masks. One day he will learn not to underestimate her, this slip of a woman who is nothing that she appears to be. In the meantime, he gives her a mask that lies closer to his heart than he wished to reveal. Her loyalties are as hidden and as prized as the jewels the Titan seeks, but she does not bear ill will toward Tony, and thus his aim is succeeded.

These humans are so easily placated by the semblance of submission. Fooling them is the task of a child. Loki wonders that he does _not_ retake this world and make himself the king of this lesser realm. It is not the kingdom he sought, true; it is the one offered ingenuously to him by the Mad Titan. The reasons he does not are varied, though most of them are Tony. Tony with his mind and his hands is already the king of this world in all but name; what better game than to push those pieces about and see what falls into place?

 

It is inevitable that he should need to speak with Thor. He could have avoided it longer, but to what purpose? When Thor seeks to join Loki and Tony one evening, Loki allows it. Better to control the situation, to make Thor approach him as the penitent. Though, if he had known how Thor had changed he might have chosen to have this particular conversation without witnesses. Thor is too insightful, and he was raised on Asgard as well, and so he knows what eats at Loki's heart underneath the easy lie of a smile.

It is not... logical, not reasonable. But hate is bred, not reasoned.

And despite Loki's plans for this, again Tony surprises him. Tony is not from Asgard- Loki knew this- and Tony's self-proclaimed best friend is a huge green monster- even if he was not born with it, it is his skin- and Loki had foreseen many possible outcomes of his darkest revelation that involved Tony _not_ turning from him in disgust, but _none_ of them had ended in Tony's tongue like a hot brand against the ridged flesh of his throat. Loki should have known that Tony only cares about filling himself with the knowledge of the universe; he does not think there is anything Tony has ever met which he does not instantly wish to consume, and the skin of a Jotun is no exception. Loki shivers with the strangest combination of revulsion and lust as Tony makes good on his promise, and touches every inch of Loki's skin with his lips and the soft caress of his breath, warm in the comforting chill of the room, as he laughs in joy and discovery.

It is not a replacement for the memories of a childhood now tainted by the knowledge of the lies forced upon him, but it is the closest Loki has ever been to feeling content.

 

 

Thor is still Thor, so the next conversation they have dissolves into an argument.

It does not take long before Loki eggs Thor on to the point where he throws Loki into a wall. They've never been gentle with each other and Loki throws Thor back across the room so that he crashes into the mirror Tony has above the bar. Loki is so angry he cannot see straight and he turns to leave, to quit this place, this _planet_ , and get as far away from Thor as he possibly can.

"Loki, wait," Thor calls to him. "Please, do not leave angry with me. I could not..."

And Loki does stop, because he also remembers the last time, the only thing Thor will apologize for: the time they had no chance to speak to each other, to offer or to retract words, until after Loki passed through the hands of madness and the only words he could speak were buried under too many levels of pain and insanity and subterfuge and rebellion for Thor to be anything but frustrated. Thor never was good at subterfuge.

"I cannot speak to you right now," Loki says, his back to Thor. "However, I shall return." He hesitates, but does not say the words that are almost on his lips. They are not words for Thor, but for Tony, and he vanishes from Thor's sight only to appear behind a closed door not twenty feet from him and lay the heavy length of his cloak over the bed in offering. He can hear Thor's angst-ridden sigh through the closed door and it only kindles his rage, and he vanishes to a place where he can beat the life out of an opponent without any repercussions.

 

 

When he returns, Tony greets him eagerly. Tony is flushed with the work he has been doing, the successful trial of his new armor, and he speaks of these things eagerly while his hands do incredible things to Loki's body, and until Loki demands another use for his mouth.  And it is not until they lie together, sated in the afterglow, that Tony traces his fingers up over the still healing scar that follows the curve of Loki's ribs.

"Anything I need to worry about?" he asks lightly.

Loki lets his fingers fold over Tony's, holding them against his skin. "No," he says. He usually doesn't try to lie well when he lies to Tony because he always finds it more interesting to see if Tony will pretend to believe him or call Loki's bluff.

"Okay," is Tony's easy response. He presses a soft kiss to Loki's collarbone and curls against Loki.

So this is one of those things that Tony will leave to Loki's judgment, and Loki is almost blown away by the trust Tony has placed in him. If Tony had any idea what was coming- if he had any idea that Loki has been playing a ragtag game of keep-away with the most dangerous creature in the universe- he would surely not trust Loki's judgment. And it strikes him differently than the annoyance of Thor's easy acceptance, because he knows that Tony doesn't trust anyone. He will be planning and laying out five different doomsday scenarios already, and add three more by the end of the week simply because of Loki's refusal to speak, and somehow it is because Tony _doesn't_ ask again that Loki feels the need to make an offering of it.

"His name is Thanos," he says quietly. Tony goes still beside him. "He is called the Mad Titan. He is searching for the Infinity Stones; he knows that I hold the Tesseract, the Space Stone, because he is the one who sent me to retrieve it." Tony is half sitting up now, his eyes fixed on Loki's.

"He's coming," Tony says and Loki nods. "Okay." Tony's hand, spread over Loki's stomach, relaxes slightly and starts moving in soft circles. "When?"

Loki shakes his head. "Perhaps soon. Perhaps a hundred years. He does not measure time. But he is... obsessed, with the Stones. I have... prepared some tempting traps to lure him away from Midgard, but nothing will prevent him from controlling all of them eventually."

Tony hums in the back of his throat. He leans in and kisses Loki's lips softly. "We'll see," is all he says, but Loki can hear his mind already working, thinking, finding answers to this problem, and there is such confidence in his voice, because he had always found those answers before.

Loki realizes that he has been tense throughout this conversation and he both hates and is okay with that, for he has unintentionally revealed to Tony exactly how much Thanos bothers him. He hates the vulnerability but he recognizes that it will help Tony understand how serious this threat is.

 

 

Slowly, he and Thor re-learn how to speak with each other until they do end up speaking more than yelling. It is not a return to the way they were before, but there is a healing in admitting that things will never be as they were. In everything he has lost, Loki is loath to concede that it pleases him to regain Thor's companionship.

Loki meets Ororo, and, though he won't say it, is truly impressed with Thor's choice. She is a warrior queen, very similar to Thor. But she has a deep and seemingly infinite serenity that is rarely shattered and a patience with the world that Thor has never had. Her maturity is that of one who has fought her way to the power and serenity she holds, and she and Loki spend hours practicing knife fighting moves and exchanging lock-picking techniques.

"She is smart, for a mortal," Loki tells Thor. They are sitting on top of the Tower, the strong winds buffeting them but not budging them from their seat.

Thor only looks at him sidelong, a smile on his face. "I could say the same. Tony is a good man."

"Yes," is all Loki says back.

Thor is silent for a while. "Why Midgard?" he asks eventually. He shoots Loki another sidelong glance.

Loki stills. "Thanos is coming," he says. Thor stiffens, but nods. Loki lets motes of Tesseract power flow between his fingers.  "There is no place to hide which he cannot find." Thor nods again, his face firm and resolute for the battle that will come. Loki grins. "The Allfather will not let the Middle Realm and control of Yggdrasil fall to the Titan. It is the safest place from him."

Thor's expression clears with understanding, though he shoots Loki a reproving look. "And Tony?" he asks pointedly.

"What of him?"

"Why Tony, when you have all of Midgard to hide in?"

"Ah." Loki thinks over the answers he could give. There are many reasons for Tony, and there are many reasons he could give to Thor, and they are not all the same. "It is more comfortable, to lounge in the indulgence of his influence than to wander aimlessly... where were you, in a desert?"

"Hmm," Thor says, and Loki would almost smile that Thor has finally become suspicious. "He is... much like you," he says finally, leadingly.

"Hmm," Loki murmurs in response. And Thor is trying so hard to _not_ just blindly trust him, to _be_ the man who reasons every side and does not simply charge off half-cocked at the first sign of trouble, that Loki gifts him the explanation he's fishing for. "Tony gives me... perspective. He has striven for recognition from those he loved and has also been unable to attain it, despite not having my... spectacular setbacks." Loki swallows. "But, perhaps more fascinating, are the ways in which Tony _has_ been able to find that for which he has searched. To find a strength within himself that is..." Loki blinks and looks away, and finishes quickly. "More, than I would have expected, from a mortal."

Thor is smiling, but he turns away so that Loki can pretend he doesn't see. "I have been thinking of Idunn," Thor says abruptly.

Loki almost falls off the building. "What?"

Thor shrugs. "I love Ororo. She is worthy of Asgard." He sounds almost sheepish. "I would keep her by me."

Loki, for a moment, can't find his tongue and he finds himself repeating stupidly, "You would make Ororo queen of Asgard, to rule at your side?"

"Aye."

Loki laughs. Thor bristles, and Loki lays a hand on his arm in appeasement. "Nay, nay, I do not mock you, brother, for Ororo would make a mighty queen. I merely pictured in my mind her facing the Allfather over the right of a mortal to rule in the heavens. It is truly an inspired thought." Thor looks at him with an expression of such open warmth, and it takes Loki a moment to realize what he's done. Bother. "You do know Idunn would never give you her apples for anyone who is not Asgardian."

"She would if Ororo remained in Asgard as queen," Thor counters. "She is already hailed as a goddess by her mother's people."

"That is true," Loki allows.

Silence stretches between them before Thor looks at him again. "You speak not of Tony."

Loki snorts. " _I_ am not welcome on Asgard. Do you think Tony would be?"

Thor's eyes are heavy. Loki looks out over the city. He has bared enough already; he will not discuss this with Thor as well. "The life we live is very long," Loki says hesitantly.

"Aye." Thor looks at him deeply. "Do you doubt Tony desires to spend the length of that time with you?"

Sometimes Thor is too insightful... and sometimes he is the same dull clod that he has always been. Loki changes the subject before he can grin and give himself away. "I can return you to Asgard, if you wish it." Thor frowns, and Loki clarifies, "Just to visit, if you like. I know Mother would be pleased to see you."

"I am deeply touched, Loki. I hadn't thought to burden you, when I know you do not wish to return there."

"I would not deny you if you asked," Loki says. The words fall, willingly unwilling, from his lips.

Thor regards him carefully for long moments, before his face breaks into the wide smile Loki remember from their childhood. It is open and honest- it was perhaps the only thing in his childhood that was honest.

"Bifrost is close enough to completion," Thor muses. "I will see Mother again, when it is time to return. But I thank you for the offer."

 

 

It is the dead of night, perhaps 4 AM, and Loki moves through the Tower in the light from the glow of the city below which seeps in through the windows that span every available surface. He is looking for something- it is like the faint cry that called to him on Alfheim, almost two years ago, like the one he ignored on Midgard a short time later, though it is closer now- but what he finds is not what he expects.

The woman Betty Ross is sitting at a table in the darkness, looking down at the city. On the table lies an open envelope, a jeweled chain spilling out of it, Betty playing the end of it between her fingers. A half-empty bottle of vodka sits beside it in patient non-judgement. She does not look up at him, but reaches for the bottle on the table and moves it toward him in offering. "Join me," she says. He can see from the sparsity of the table that she has forgone the civility of glasses.

Loki does not need to ask questions- her grief is almost palpable. He debates whether he wants to get involved. On the one hand, he doesn't care; on the other, he has been attempting to foster goodwill with Tony's compatriots. And he is curious- he knows this woman remains in this building near the monster, despite having much experience with its volatile nature. After a long moment he steps forward and sits at the table. He reaches for the bottle. The liquor burns all the way down his throat; not in a nice way, like Tony's Scotch, but angrily. He coughs, unprepared.

Betty turns to look at him and laughs darkly. Loki allows it, as he can see her bitter humor is not directed at him in specific, but at the unfairness of the world. She takes the bottle back and makes an honest attempt at draining it, her throat working in long swallows as she takes the angry burn of it into herself. She sets the bottle back on the table and returns her eyes to the city. Her fingers pause as they work over the jeweled chain, buffing circles into a yellow jewel the size of the last joint of her thumb. Loki stares at the jewel and knows that it is what has called to him. He supposes he could just take it from her... and if it was what it thought it was he would. But it is just an echo.

Betty notices his attention. "It belonged to my grandmother," she says. "I never met her. My father's mother. He gave me this," she spreads the jeweled chain and Loki sees that it is a necklace of topazes set in gold, the largest jewel hanging down from the rest of the chain in a central place and calling to him softly with the echo of infinity. "He would tell me stories, about her, how she found this stone here in a meteorite." Betty laughs. The sound is both fond and bitter.

"My father died," she says, after some minutes. She swirls the bottle, listening to the liquid move against the glass. "I haven't talked to him in years. I've spent most of the past decade pissed off at him. Even before that, he was never..." She pauses. "He was never what I wanted him to be," she says finally, as if the words are a revelation to her. "He never wanted to spend time with me.  He was always too busy with his army stuff for my ballet recitals and school presentations. He wanted me to marry a nice army boy and settle down and raise a family." Her eyebrows draw together in anger. "He never listened to things he didn't want to hear." Abruptly, the anger melts away and she looks sad.

"Yet you grieve for him," Loki says. His voice is like smoke in the darkness and he pretends that if he doesn't pay attention to where it's coming from then he can deny knowledge of its source. "He was hateful and cruel, but he was your father. You never stopped wanting his... affection, and now it is something you have no chance to receive."

Betty is crying silently. "Why can't I just hate the bastard?"

Loki has lived with hatred for so long he cannot imagine an answer to such a question, but the silence demands words of his tongue. "You loved him, even though your affection was not reciprocated. And perhaps that is why you are unable to release it. When you... love someone, you take pride in their accomplishments. You wish to see them honored, exalted, and safe from the ravages of the realms. You desire that they would want the same for you. But, to change the nature of... someone, it would take away the essence of who they are, and they would no longer be the one you loved."

Betty presses the cuffs of her long sleeves to her face to wipe away the tears. "You mean Tony," she says.

Silence echoes for a beat. "Perhaps," he allows.

Betty laughs. It is an angry sound but the look she casts over the city below them is no longer harsh and bitter. "I couldn't change him," she murmurs. "But he couldn't change me to suit him either, so where does that leave us?" She huffs a breath. "Seeking love elsewhere, I suppose." And she smiles, her expression distant and fond despite the angry grip of her hand on the neck of the vodka bottle.

The silence falls again, and Loki fills its emptiness with a vastly abridged version of his first viewing of Jane Foster, from the seat of Hlidskalf as he looked down upon the realms in his brief stint as king. Betty laughs again as he tells the story, softer and lighter, and the darkness is banished, for now.

He sits beside her through to the rising of the sun, as she drinks the rest of the bottle and falls asleep. He carries her to her room, where Doctor Foster waits, worry etching her brow. "There she is," Foster says, under her breath. "Thank you," she says to Loki, meeting his eyes. "I really appreciate this." She tucks a blanket around Betty's shoulders.

Loki shakes his head, and refuses to speak. The yellow jewel sits safe in the necklace of topazes, curled tightly in Betty's fingers. It is not what it thinks it is, but he knows where to find it if that should change.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soundtrack listing: "Kashmir" is written and performed by Led Zeppelin.  
> Note: The line is “traveler of both time and space,” which is supposed to be a meta kind of joke, in that the _chapter_ travels back to start Loki’s story alongside of Tony’s in chapter 1, not to imply that Loki himself is time-traveling.


	6. Hope You're Quite Prepared to Die

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An assassination attempt livens up any party.

**Location:** Universe YOSLY, Designation: Delta  
New York City _  
_ 5 years pre-anomaly

Tony has discovered that it's not alcohol but rather good company that is best at making a Stark Industries charity event bearable.

"I'll bet you six months that you can't make that shot," Darcy says. She gestures vaguely toward the table, laden with champagne glasses and small plates of dessert, that dominates the area of the plaza on their side of the central fountain.

Tony balances the toothpick and olive between his fingertips. "Make it a year, and we'll see what happens."

She quirks an eyebrow. "You gonna match?"

He shrugs. "I'll give you five intros to the rich and famous of your choice, in the unlikely event that you win."

Darcy nods. "Done," she says with a maniacal grin that Tony shoots right back at her. He flips the olive into the champagne glass balanced on the furthest edge of the table, and then the glass falls over. "That doesn't count!" Darcy yells.

Bruce rejoins them. "What are they betting with now?"

Loki rolls his eyes and manages to look both bored and vindictive at the same time. "I believe she now has to work for him for free for a year after she completes her degree." He raises an eyebrow. "You really shouldn't bet against him, dear." He grins wolfishly; it looks particularly odd in his current persona of petite, blonde waif.

Darcy glares. "You can't help him win. That's cheating." Tony laughs, and Darcy appeals to Bruce, "Make him not cheat!"

Bruce raises his brows. "Darcy, love, if you're going to gamble when the god of mischief is sitting _right there_ , you deserve whatever you get." He kisses her cheek as she grumbles.

Tony is still laughing as he pulls Loki against him, leaning down to press a kiss to his lips. "Thanks, babe. Wanna dance?" He feels Loki make a gesture at Darcy behind his back as Tony practically carries him to the open dancing area.

Loki's disguise tonight is about five foot nothing with an impressive rack and a cute, heart-shaped face. He can't weigh more than a hundred pounds. Tony saw him before the benefit, so he is completely submersed in his disguise; usually if he and Tony are meeting at the event he leaves some part of himself obvious to help Tony find him, though there was that one incident with the Danish ambassador that necessitated the formation of a code word for such occasions. Tonight, the smallness of his frame is such an interesting contrast to the normal long planes of his face and how he usually towers over Tony; Tony is really getting into being able to toss him around the dance floor and pull him in for a kiss whenever he wants to. Loki is grinning enough that Tony thinks he's probably enjoying the novelty of it, too.

They drift back toward Bruce and Darcy, and even though Tony won the bet he still introduces Darcy to a foreign minister and the CEO of Roxxon Oil- though, how the hell Roxxon Oil got near this party Tony has no idea. Pepper would know, but she's busy chatting with the senator in the garden on the other side of the plaza.

 

"That guy's a weasel," Darcy tells Tony later. She's smoothing her skirt down and Bruce is looking annoyed.

Tony laughs. "It takes all kinds, Lewis. You gotta schmooze 'em all. Though, I wouldn't worry." He says it to her, but rests his hand on Bruce's arm comfortingly. "He's all hat, no cattle."

Darcy rolls her eyes. "Like I couldn't handle it. I even finagled an introduction from him to the Princess of Bhutan, no help from you. That doesn't make him less of a weasel." She hooks her arm in Bruce's and leans against his shoulder. Bruce relaxes, turning toward her to kiss her hair softly.

Tony turns toward Loki, but Loki suddenly tenses against him. His eyes narrow and he snaps his head around, searching for something.

Tony opens his mouth, but he suddenly hears it- the echoing report of a rifle. It sounds like a high caliber; he hears two reports, two shots. His blood runs cold in that half-second of recognition. He wants to shout for everyone to get down- to dive down himself- to grab Bruce- but he knows that if he's already heard the report it's too late to do anything. Before he can even finish this thought, someone is going to be dead.

And he stumbles backward, Loki's hand slammed against his chest with the force of acceleration, his long fingers curled around something small and hard. Loki's other hand is in the air in front of Tony's face, and Tony can see through it. He realizes belatedly that Loki opened _a portal in space_ to suck in a bullet that was about to hit him, and Tony feels weak-kneed suddenly.

The others are just realizing something is going on. Bruce steps toward him, concerned. Tony opens his mouth to yell, but before he can make a sound, he watches another bullet hit Bruce in the chest, right above the heart.

"Bruce!" Tony yells. His hands are clutching at Loki, trying to pull open Loki's fist to see what he's holding- as if Tony can't already figure out it's another bullet: it's a sniper move, shoot twice, head and chest, to maximize potential casualty. He finally pulls the bullet from Loki's bloody hand.

Everyone around them is screaming. Tony can hear Hulk growling and at least he doesn't have to worry about Bruce. Loki takes Tony's face in his hands. "Stay here, Tony." And he's gone in a ripple of blue fire. Tony turns to Bruce, and Darcy; the _fuck_ he's going to stay put, but it's going to take the armor a minute to find him anyway.

Hulk roars. The people who aren't running yet, start. Pepper, of all crazy people, is coming toward him. Tony sees the worry on her face.

Darcy steps in front of Hulk. "Give me your shirt," she demands. Hulk slams his fists into the ground on either side of her and stares at her mulishly. She flinched when he did it, but Darcy locks her jaw, snaps her fingers, and holds out her trembling hand like she's waiting for the shirt.

Hulk steps back a moment, casting around in annoyance. The other people are mostly running away and there's no more shots being fired, so that's good. But then Tony hears the helicopter. "Motherfucker," he mutters, looking around for his armor.

The armor finally arrives and Tony steps into it. "Hulk," he calls, "protect the girls."

Hulk roars and throws a bench into the fountain, but prowls around Pepper and Darcy instead of running off to find things worthy of being smashed. Darcy is using her wrap to fold the shirt, soaked in Bruce's blood, into her handbag. Tony has to admit he's impressed; he's thought of giving Hulk something to do as a way to distract him from other forms of mayhem, but he never would have thought Darcy would not only think of that but focus on the need to contain DNA material and play back into Hulk's desire to protect Bruce. She is a hell of a woman and Tony's actually a little bit jealous, because of course the best time to have weirdly conflicting emotions is when someone's trying to assassinate him.

Tony flies to the building across the street; the only building with enough height and a clear sightline. Hovering over the roof, he sees Loki, having shed his disguise, engaged in hand to hand combat with a figure dressed in black. Tony flies closer, and shoots a small repulsor beam at the opponent.

But the guy catches it against his arm and completely shrugs off the blow. Tony can hear the helicopter getting closer. They don't have a lot of time before this party gets crashed. Loki looks like he's enjoying the hell out of himself, trading knife blows with his opponent, the full force of his blows being met with almost equal resistance. One of the knives catches the black-clad figure along his bicep and there is an unearthly screech as Loki drags the point of the knife across what turns out to be _a metal arm_ once the cloth is torn away.

"Sir," JARVIS says suddenly in his ear, "Captain Rogers is trying to reach you."

Tony grits his teeth. "Little busy, Jarv."

Because the helicopter is here, and someone is jumping out of it, and suddenly Steve is standing on the roof. He kicks the assassin in the gut then turns around to intercept Loki's attack, turning and throwing Loki to the roof. He holds out his hands to ask for a cessation of hostilities. No one's really listening as both Loki and the assassin scramble to their feet, but Steve's voice rings out, "Please don't kill anyone."

"Did you not notice the fact that this guy just fucking _shot me_?" Tony yells back. It's starting to catch up to him, and he's shivering inside the suit.

"I know," Steve says, and his face is tragic. "He's been brainwashed. Tony, _please_." The assassin doesn't seem keen to hang around and Steve intercepts his attempt to flee the scene, bringing him to the ground for about five seconds before the guy twists out of his lock. "I know I have no right to ask it," Steve yells to Tony, "but please, help me stop him without killing him."

Tony growls, but peppers the assassin with non-lethal repulsor blasts.

Loki is less affected by Steve's plea. Since Steve interrupted his enjoyable martial interchange with the assassin, Loki goes for quick and dirty. The assassin may be some kind of super soldier, but that's somewhere down the list from Asgardian, and Loki knocks him flat with a punch straight to the nose before he seizes the assassin's head between his hands. It looks like the precursor to breaking the guy's neck, and Steve yells an ineffectual, "No!"

Tony lands on the roof. "Loki," he says. Loki's head whips around to look at him. His eyes are mad and bright, bright blue and he is breathing heavily but Tony would guess not from exertion. Tony flips the faceplate and looks at his lover. He doesn't say anything; he figures words would just be oil on a flame. He doesn't control Loki's actions, and he's stopped asking about people whom Loki may or may not be killing- he just scans news reports and decides that if it's not happening on Earth he doesn't have to care. This guy did try to kill him just now, but, hey, that's pretty much how he and Loki met so...

Loki just stares at Tony, and he lets the limp body fall from his hands.

Steve scrambles to check for a pulse. He gathers the assassin against him carefully, almost tenderly, and Tony has to ask, "What the fuck, Rogers?"

Steve takes a deep breath. "It's Bucky," he says. "He's not dead, but he doesn't remember me." And there is such hope in his voice and such a deep, bone-wearying sorrow in his eyes when he says this.

"Bucky," Tony repeats like an idiot, but once he gets it his mind starts skipping over. "Barnes? From... Shit, how? And why the fuck is he trying to kill me?"

The helicopter veered away after Steve got off, but apparently he wasn't the only one to disembark, because Natasha hops down from another area of the roof and says, "Been annoying Hydra lately, Stark?"

"Hydra? Is that still a thing?" Tony frowns. "Well, if you call distributing reliable clean energy to third-world nations annoying, then... yeah." Because he has been doing that, and maybe he's also been having JARVIS run a virus code that redirects the flow of funds from some bank accounts that are tied to Afghani heroin fields that terrorists own and sends alerts to the proper international law enforcement when necessary, but if Widow doesn't know about _that_ he's not going to say anything. "JARVIS," he taps the side of his helmet unnecessarily, "update file, those guys we couldn't figure out if they were garden variety white supremacists or Neo-Nazis? Probably Hydra."

"Of course, sir."

Natasha says, "We have something else we liberated from Hydra, that you might find interesting." Tony thinks she's talking to him, but she turns and looks past him to Loki.

Loki eyes her but doesn't speak. 

Tony rubs his gauntleted hand over his face and sighs. "I have to go get Bruce. Don't go anywhere," he admonishes Widow.

Loki steps toward Tony and rests a hand on his shoulder. "I will take care of it," he says softly. His eyes are still blue, but softer, without the mad intensity, and the city starts to fade into stars around them and the next thing Tony knows he's standing in the open space on the third lab level that he unofficially calls Hulk's Playpen. Hulk, Darcy, Pepper, Steve, the assassin, and Natasha have been brought with him and Loki. Steve looks a little queasy, Loki a touch smug.

And Tony grins. He's always trying to see if he can find an upper limit on the things Loki can do and so far he hasn't found it. He's inwardly clapping his hands that they're in one of his lab spaces and he can record their arrival at least.

"Mister Barton is landing a helicopter on the helipad," JARVIS says.

"Great, J, send him down." Tony kind of wants to get out of the suit, but also kind of wants to keep it on while he's anywhere near Barnes. Who still appears to be out cold.

Hulk is bored, so Bruce comes back; he and Darcy are talking softly in the corner.

Pepper comes over. She rests her hand on the chestplate of Tony's suit and she looks at him like she wants to lean up and kiss him, but she's not tall enough for that so she doesn't. "Be careful," she says. "For a minute there I thought..." She tries to smile, but it's a little watery. "I'm glad that you're not dead."

And Tony doesn't know what to say to that, so he leans down and kisses her cheek, and he grins because, yeah he's also glad he's not dead. She smiles back at him, it's stronger this time, and she steps away. She looks at Loki, but he's not looking at her so he doesn't see the sort of wondering, thankful look she shoots him, and she leaves, her heels beating a tempo on the floor as she returns to her own battlefield and cedes this one to them.

Clint arrives. He's holding a long black case. He does not look pleased to see Loki but doesn't immediately start shit- which is saying a lot for Clint, and Tony wants to give him props. But that case is kind of holding his attention and he's not the only one.

Loki's head snaps toward it with an intent look and tension suddenly runs all through him like a ripple of electricity. "What is _that_ doing here?" he asks, voice deceptively smooth.

Clint sets down the case and opens it wordlessly, showing Tony the scepter- Loki's scepter from the invasion, the one that makes people into mind slaves. Joy.

Natasha eyes him. "Did you not alert us to its importance and send us to fetch it from SHIELD?" She seems amused, as if she is well aware that whatever Loki intended he probably didn't expect them to succeed. She repeats, "We liberated it from Hydra."

Loki narrows his eyes. "I thought that leaving it to SHIELD's keeping was a mistake, but it appears that I was even more mistaken than I could imagine, to think that they could even possibly comprehend the power they let slip through their fingers." It takes Tony a moment to realize that Loki is ranting; he so rarely freely shows emotion that it makes the fear that underlays his words all the more worrisome.

"They used that, to brainwash Barnes?" Tony asks, not because it's a question he needs answered but because someone needs to talk about the scepter in a context other than Loki and Clint's history with it. 

"Yeah," Clint says, distracted. He's watching Loki like he would not mind in the slightest using the sharp-edged tip of the scepter to gut Loki like a fish.

"In part," Natasha qualifies. She's watching Clint like a hawk, and also sparing an eye for Loki. Tony watches Barnes, because he feels that someone should. "They've had hold of him for quite a while longer than the scepter has been on earth. When Steve started to break through their regular controls, they upped the ante."

Clint is not exactly in a trusting mood, so, when Loki says, "Give it to me," Tony understands why Clint's first reaction is to step between Loki and the scepter's case and respond with, "Like fucking hell."

Loki sighs. "Its power will overwhelm you," he says, patience thin. "A mortal cannot hope to control it."

"So I should let you control it?" Clint's face is hard. "Because that turned out so well last time."

"Let me take it," Tony says loudly. He steps toward the case and closes it, picking it up in one gauntleted hand. Everyone looks at him as if they'd forgotten he was there. "I don't even have to touch it, and it already doesn't work on me."

When he closes the case, both Clint and Loki relax marginally.

 

Tony takes the case and locks the scepter in the vault behind his private workshop. Loki could probably get it out if he wanted to, but Tony doesn't think he wants to. He follows Tony into the vault and after Tony locks the doors Loki draws runes on them without saying a word. Tony guesses it's a protection spell of some kind; he doesn't ask, just touches his hand to Loki's cheek and guides him into a kiss.

Back down in the main lab, Bruce is looking at James Barnes. "His vitals are strong," he says. "I've called Doctor Fraiser to come take a look at him; she's still here for the evening."

Steve nods, and he lifts Barnes against him protectively; his body language is so obvious it kind of hits Tony in the middle of his post-assassination adrenaline high just _how much_ Steve cares about Barnes.

Eventually, Bruce bans them from the room. He sends Tony off with Steve, to find a shower and something hot to eat. Natasha takes Clint and they follow Tony and Steve out, before splitting off. Natasha is in the lead, but they are headed to Clint's old room; Tony is pleased with himself that he left the room the way it was after Clint left. Loki stays with Bruce, Fraiser, and Barnes; Tony's pretty sure Fraiser doesn't know he's there, but Bruce does.

"Sir," JARVIS interrupts Tony ordering hot food for them from the kitchen, "should I remind you of your ban on SHIELD personnel?"

Tony's about to respond, but Steve cuts him off. "I'm not with SHIELD any longer." His voice is firm, but there is a lost quality to it. Tony places a hand on Steve's shoulder hesitantly. "I'm sorry, Tony," Steve says. "I didn't understand, that day at the pub. And you don't make things any easier; you go out of your way to make me angry don't you? You think you can flout whatever you want to because you're Tony Stark."

Tony opens his mouth to protest, not that Steve’s really _wrong_ , but Steve's hand on his arm stops him. "I’m sorry. I know it’s not… Anyway, I wasn’t thinking about anything really, you know? Without him… I… Nothing mattered. And I didn’t understand, what you could possibly see in a… a guy like that, but then I saw him." He closes his eyes and swallows back whatever emotion is trying to leak out of them. Steve's exhausted and probably starving, and he looks like he's just been through hell and still hasn't had his shower, but Tony can tell that he's going to have to sit here and listen to Steve finish this. He thinks it's supposed to be an apology, but Tony was never much good at recognizing those.

"I saw him,” Steve says again. “And I _knew_ … I almost got him back, Tony. I... Natasha got me close, and _he_ knew, he knew me, and he came back to me. But then, Hydra took him back and got into his head again." His hands clench into fists. "He'd come back to me, and they turned him back into their Winter Soldier." He practically spits the last bit.

That gets Tony's attention. "Wait, you mean that guy in the lab is the _Winter Soldier_? The assassin so good no one can actually prove he exists?" Tony's not sure if he's still feeling a bit of his post-assassination adrenaline high, but he really wants to lock himself in his workshop and forget that the world exists for about two weeks; he's also a bit worried for Loki and Bruce, though, of all the people he knows, those two are probably the most capable of taking care of themselves. He narrows his eyes. "So you think because your old flame is now an international assassin you totally understand me and Loki as a couple?"

Steve can't decide if he's annoyed to the point of doing something about it or if he's not quite there yet and is going to let it slid this time, which seems to sum up his relationship with Tony pretty accurately. "No. I understand what it's like to believe in someone, even when all of the evidence and everyone you know is telling you to give up a lost cause."

Tony thinks maybe Steve does get it a little bit.  "And now you think I'm going to let you detox your crazy assassin boyfriend in my Tower after he tried to kill me?"

Steve looks even more tired. Tony's ready to field all of Steve's protests and reasonings as a little payback before he eventually gives in and lets them stay, but he has no defense prepared for what Steve actually says. "Please, Tony."

"Yeah." Tony squeezes Steve's shoulder tightly. "Of course." Steve looks relieved. Tony wonders if Steve really believed that Tony would turn him away, or if he just couldn't think of a reason why Tony _wouldn't_. "You eat up and then get some sleep, Captain America." He points Steve toward food, but rests his hand on Steve's shoulder for a moment longer. "This isn't going to be easy."

 

And it's not.

No one really knows what was done to Barnes' head, and the first few times he wakes up he's either interested in killing everyone he sees or he's incapable of speaking English. Or, if it's an especially awesome day, both.

The first time Steve and Fraiser are there; Barnes flips shit, tears his way through a room's worth of medical equipment, and tries to rip through the wall. He even makes a half-hearted attempt to kill Steve, and it makes Steve walk around with the gloomiest face ever seen for the rest of the week. It also effectively kills any idea anyone might have had about trying to confine/treat Barnes anywhere that isn't an extra reinforced lab level, of which they have exactly one and that is the third level. Tony would have to say he's a little bit interested to see if Barnes can break out of it; it wasn't exactly designed to contain a resourceful supersoldier.

"Hope you don't mind I gave away your room," Tony says as he takes his seat in the Level Five meeting room. Bruce laughs so hard he can't explain the joke to Darcy, who wasn't there the first time and doesn't get it.

Fraiser looks annoyed, though the no-nonsense fierceness of her gaze is also practically her default expression. Natasha looks politely interested and Clint and Steve could not even give a fuck.

"What's the news, Doc?" Clint asks.

Fraiser pulls out the results of the CT scan. "Obtaining the scan without all of the standard equipment was an interesting experience." She looks at the ceiling and makes a vague gesture. "Be sure to thank JARVIS for me, Mister Stark. It would not have been possible without his assistance."

Tony makes a vague gesture back at her. "He knows. And?"

She frowns. "While the scan shows damage that has been done to the brain tissue, it is difficult to assess how this may ultimately affect his cognitive functions without him being conscious and interested in assisting in exploring the issue." She adds, rather bluntly, “His healing abilities must be almost unreal to have survived all the damage on this scan. I’d call it fantastical if I hadn’t also seen Captain Roger’s medical files.”

Steve is clenching his jaw so hard Tony's pretty sure he's going to hurt himself.

Thor is standing near the window, watching the wind. "I wonder if Lady Braddock might be of assistance."

"Who is that?" Steve asks.

"One of Storm's friends. She's a mutant, a telepath." Tony mulls it over. "It couldn't hurt to ask."

So they do.

 

She's out of town- possibly even off planet, but Sean Cassidy, holding the fort at the Westchester Mansion, isn't committing to anything- so they have to sit on it for a bit. So far Natasha's the only one whom A) Barnes hasn't lost his mind at the sight of, and who B) seems interested and capable of helping him. So she takes point in assessing his mental state as much as possible.

 

When Betsy Braddock arrives she takes one look at Barnes' image on the feed from the Hulk level and says, "Holy Hannah." The words are uttered slowly and reverently- as if actually swearing just wouldn’t be enough to fully encompass the situation. She takes a step back, like she needs more space to take it all in.

Steve tenses even further, if that's physically possible. "You can't help him." The words sound like they're supposed to be a question, but it's one Steve's apparently already answered.

"Don't put words in my mouth, Captain." Betsy frowns what Tony is considering trademarking as the Confronted-with-James-Barnes'-Brain Frown. "You know I'm not a mind healer, right? I'm actually more practiced at _causing_ psychic damage. The Professor never really got around to teaching me what he knew on the subject, though considering the bang up job he did with Jean maybe that's a good thing. Look," she pulls her eyes from the image of Barnes on the screen and turns to face Steve. "I can go in, see what I can see, maybe get a general feel. But I can't promise anything."

Steve nods. "Anything you can do to help. I would appreciate it. I know Bucky would appreciate it."

"See that's the thing." She turns back to watch the feed. "You're putting words in my mouth again, Captain. I'm saying it might not help at all."

 

Fortunately, Betsy Braddock is a pessimist and things don't go as terribly as she'd thought.

"The initial attempt at cranial recalibration," Natasha reports, giving Loki a side-eye while Betsy sits beside her and looks amused at whatever Natasha is thinking, "appears to have broken any control exerted by the scepter. However," she pauses as if searching for words. Steve tenses.

"Hydra assholes have been dicking with his brain for half a century?" Tony offers helpfully, because they should get it out there. Steve's fists slam into the table with enough force that the heavy wood panel cracks. Tony pulls out his phone and sets to ordering a new table. He should probably get a bigger one in any case.

"However," Natasha says, louder and with a glare at Tony that he ignores, "The combination of different techniques appears to have had an unexpected result."

"What does that even mean?" Steve looks belligerent for a moment, but calms enough to ask the question that would appear to mean the most to him, "Does he remember me?"

"I don't know," Natasha says gently. "He hasn’t said as much to me, but I believe there is a lot he is refusing to speak about.”

"As far as memory," Betsy interjects less diplomatically, "It's almost impossible to say on this side. He's the only one who knows what he remembers, and attempting to access anything without his participation is not something I'm comfortable doing."

"I would never ask that," Steve says.

Betsy nods. "And he doesn't exactly trust me, which is unsurprising, so my doing anything at all is really not worth discussing at the moment."

"Can we start at back the beginning?" Tony puts in. "I mean, what does his brain even look like after all the mucking around in there that's been going on? I'm surprised he's not a drooling idiot."

Steve glares at him, but Tony ignores him.

Betsy leans forward. "His mind is very confused, and that is an understatement if I've ever heard one. But," she shakes her head in what almost looks like wonder, "the underlying cognitive processes are functioning. I can tell he was trained as a soldier because he immediately identified my presence as infiltration and tried to block me out. He remembers that he's _supposed_ to do something, and the correct procedure follows. That could be problematic if he forgets _why_ he's supposed to be acting, or if he gets input from conflicting procedures."

Tony frowns. "Is there a way to fix that?"

Natasha shrugs. "I've been working with him on an orientation procedure. It should help keep him grounded in current reality." She looks at the feed monitor for a moment. "He's very good at telling when I'm lying, so I've been speaking Russian mostly when I do sessions with him. It has of course helped to bring out... a particular set of memories." She reaches out and lays her hand over Steve's, gripping his wrist tightly. "Give me a little more time. We'll get him back." She says the last like an old promise, and Steve nods.

 

Betsy flies out with the offer to call her if her particular brand of help becomes more relevant, but Natasha works on Barnes. Tony's working on his own idea to help with everything. Honestly, memories no one wants to remember are kind of Tony's specialty. Bruce and Fraiser are giving him a hand, and finally even Loki gets interested in the entire carnival; Tony's pretty sure that happened after the second time Barnes tries to kill him. Apparently, the last command is one of those conflicting procedures Betsy warned about and it won't undo itself.

They discover this on one of the early days, and Tony's pretty sure Loki's never going to let him go anywhere alone anymore without shadowing him since he can't seem to help antagonizing people who are already trying to kill him. Natasha bans Tony and Steve both from the floor, so Tony drags Steve to his workshop.

"I dunno, I feel kind of touched, like he's starting a fan club. Of course, a fan club for people that want to kill me isn't exactly my favorite group of people to have, you know, _grouping_ in any sort of fashion. I wonder if Loki can get retroactive membership. He can be my spy."

Steve grunts rather than attempt to respond to anything that Tony says, and his fist hits the graphene fiber panel of the punching bag with such force that the material starts to split down the middle.

Tony peers at it closely. "Damn. And that was the double thick of my new blend." He makes some notes, tweaking one of the displays in front of him.

"Are we done?" Steve asks.

"Where are you in such a hurry to get to, Rogers? He's right there on the monitor." Tony taps the feed from the playpen. "It' s the next best thing to being there, watching from the monitor on the observation floor. Which you have been, _there_ , for 47 of the past 48 hours. Take a break. Go for a breather." He turns back to his other display and frowns as he rewrites a formula. "JARVIS, ship that to Bruce real quick."

"Of course, sir."

"You're the best, J."

Steve has to suck in a deep breath to regain steam after Tony's unrelated interjection, and he says, "I... I feel like if I'm there, I can stop anything worse from happening. It doesn't make sense. But it's how I feel."

Tony looks up at him from the corner of his eye before turning back to his display. "Tell me about it. You know, a story. About the old days."

Steve pauses. "You hate stories about the old days."

Tony waves a hand dismissively. "I also hate it when people try to kill me. Lesser of two evils, Rogers."

And Steve gets this dreamy look on his face, and starts talking. Tony only has to murmur occasionally to keep him going and it's actually hours before Steve notices the time again. Tony learns more than he ever thought he wanted to know about Captain America, and Barnes and the rest of the Howling Commandoes; there's a lot about Howard in there too, but for some reason Tony doesn't mind it quite so much.

 

Loki is not a fan of the Mind Stone, and he is not a fan of dicking around with people's brains- which, honestly, the last one kind of surprised Tony, so maybe Loki just isn't a fan of doing favors for Steve- but he does agree to see what magic can do to help with Barnes' brain.

"The incompetence with which the scepter was handled astounds me," Loki says offhand. Tony's pretty sure he can hear Clint grinding his teeth and Clint's not even in the room.

Steve leans in, breathing impatiently and trying so hard to _not_ stare at Loki like he's the biggest threat in the room that it's kind of having the opposite result.

Loki eyes Steve like a particularly uninteresting bug on a windshield and then proceeds to ignore him. He directs his observations to Tony. "The structure of his mind is undamaged. The scepter acts upon the mind in such a way that it removes the desire to oppose the will of the holder. As the idiots who attempted to manage it had already placed within the Soldier's mind blocks and controls upon his will, these collided with somewhat explosive results."

Steve looks mutinous, and Tony signs and explains, because he already went over this with Natasha and Loki about an hour ago, and for some reason Natasha weaseled out of having to tell Steve about it, "So when Loki broke the control of the scepter, it left everything confused, which is where Betts came in. With all the broken pieces in there, there's something of a vacuum when it comes to who's in charge of telling him what to do- does he remember the programing or does he remember that it's broken? Tasha's pretty sure that's where we're at with him still trying to kill me.

"But the general upshot is, basically it's like someone took his head and shook it really hard and everything fell out of the drawers where it was kept and is sitting in piles on the floor. If he picks them up without context or out of order it can affect where he's at in his head, particularly until he enters another REM cycle. What Natasha is doing is trying to get him to learn how to pick things up, organize them, and then put them back in the drawers so everything's organized again."

Steve frowns. "Tony, I think you dumbed that down too much, it doesn’t make sense."

Tony rubs his face. "The important part is that it's all still in there. _All_ of it," Tony emphasizes, and he sees Steve start to get it even as he temporizes, "probably."

"So," Steve theorizes, "Natasha can't know if she's about to help him organize a pile of say, Brooklyn in 1940 or a pile of something Hydra put there."

"Exactly."

Steve sighs. "You know I'm in it for the long haul, Tony. Whatever he needs." He takes a deep breath. "As long as my being there doesn't make it worse for him."

"See, that's the thing." Tony's fiddling with a handheld interface and he's looking at the feed where Natasha is sitting at a table talking to Barnes who is pacing warily on the other side of the table like a frustrated tiger. "I know you don't always _listen_ to the feeds, because of your whole cycle of frustration that you then take out on my gym equipment, but Natasha’s been making some headway in the trust department and she says he remembers you. You're in there Steve. He'll figure it out."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soundtrack listing: "Bad Moon Rising" is written by John Fogerty and performed by Creedence Clearwater Revival. 
> 
> Note: One of my favorite moments in AEMH is when the Winter Soldier totally shoots a guy in the head. I can't believe they got away with that in a kid's show... Though, I guess it's different when you’re using a laser rifle? And the "guy" in question is actually the herald of Galactus, so his body is made of fire instead of actually having a body... Anyway, that was my inspiration for this opening of this chapter.


	7. Long as I Remember, the Rain Been Coming Down

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Winter Soldier works at unraveling his memories.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this chapter is all about a guy with memory problems, identity issues, and years of murder training digging through all the terrible things in his head. I’ve purposefully kept everything very vague as far as references to specific events, as you may have noticed by my convoluted attempts to tag this story, but if that’s something that touches too close to home, feel free to skip. Most of the chapter is not significant to the overall plot and the part that is will be referenced again in the next chapter.  
> Also, if you only want the plot bit of the chapter, do a page search for the word “fifty-seven” and that should jump you down to the last scene of the chapter.

**Location:** Universe YOSLY, Designation: Delta  
New York  
_Stark Tower_  
_5 years pre-anomaly_

Every time he wakes up he has to stop, to remember how to breathe. Like it's the first time, the first time waking after the cold of the deep freeze.

That feels recent. Repetitive. Concrete. He can remember instances of waking that did not involve cold, but they are... detached. He isn't certain if they are things that happened to him or things he observed.

Every morning he inventories what is real. What is here.

He can feel all of his limbs, including the fingers of the mechanical arm.

He remembers who he is. Not explicitly, but he remembers that he a being that exists; that he has thoughts of his own.

His mind is full of memories. They reach out and snatch at him, but most of them are like pale ghosts of things and he's not certain if they are real. Fragments come to him: blood on his fingers, his arm thrown around a waist as he dances, bare skin under his lips, bare skin under his metal fingers, his ears echoing with the sound of screaming.

But he focuses on the inventory.

As the inventory becomes more repetitive it helps to liken it to the memory of cold, to compare them. Contrast serves to define his world.

With the memory of waking from cold is the memory of the application of electrical currents to fire his brain synapses into active states. It has not been used in the instance of this waking. Like the cold, it has not been used in several wakings. Contrast is important. But, this unsettles him.

He is in a room. He is either lying on a bed or sitting beside it, depending on the day. The existence of the bed, and the sensation of lying upon it, usually helps orient him quickly, because it is different than anything else he can remember waking up to. He quickly places his immediate surroundings: the small table with drawers beside the bed, the door to the washroom further up the wall, and, farthest, the door to the outer room which is much larger.

He knows these rooms were not built for containing him. He knows there are cameras watching him; in the outer room it is easy to spot them, and he thinks this means there are none in the sleeping area.

It is... strange and inexplicable, and it angers and frustrates him. His mind is full of broken pieces, but he remembers there being purpose. Always, if he was awake, there was a _purpose_. The unfamiliarity of this space and the lack of a mission makes the fragments that surface to him more and more each day even more unsettling.

This is not helped by the woman. When the cameras see that he is awake the woman appears through a door in the wall of the outer room carrying a tray of food. She is small and slender, but he does not underestimate her at all.

She told him her name was Natalia. He's not sure if he thinks she's lying about that. He's only tried to kill her twice, that he remembers: the first time was reflex, when she set the tray of food on the table that first day, he grabbed her wrist and tried to flip her over his shoulder, but she'd been expecting him; the second was because his mind hadn't woken up in order that morning and he'd forgotten how she'd turned him aside so easily the first time and sent him to the floor with a sharp bite of electricity from her wrists. She hadn't seemed to mind, either time.

She brings him purpose- he remembers she was the one who proposed the inventory. And it does help. But the more he remembers the more frustrated he becomes. There is something he's supposed to be doing. He wishes she would just tell him what it is.

"What does your mind see today?" she asks him, in perfect Parisian French.

Memory is a strange thing. The fragments fit themselves together in fits and starts, and then they break apart as easily, as if there is nothing holding them together, no reason they should progress in an orderly fashion. This question is not an unusual one for her to put to him, but today it only frustrates him.

"I prefer when you speak Russian," he says in that language. He remembers basic things easily. Processes. Languages. His words are a low grumble, because he does find that her Russian sounds the most welcoming, but the words are also a test, because he remembers previously that opinions and preferences he expressed were met with pain and a return to the cold sleep. He's pretty sure he can kill her before she can call men to bring the cold; he hadn't pushed her past her initial rebuff the previous times he'd struck at her. At least that will be something he can remember, something that his mind will have done for itself instead of all the dark places that already fill it.

But she smiles. "I prefer to speak French today," she says jauntily. "But you may respond in Russian if that pleases you."

He scowls. "It does."

"What does your mind see today?" she asks him again.

"Does it matter so much to you?" Whenever she comes she asks questions. Sometimes he finds answers which surface from the depths of his mind. Her questioning is usually methodical; he feels like he is being run through his paces and it annoys him at times, and he hates her a little bit.

"Yes," she answers. "I want to help you."

And it is times like this that he finds most unnerving, when his failure to produce the correct answers to her questions, to question her instead, is greeted with no punishment. He remembers pain that screamed through him and seemed to have no end, until he begged for the emptiness of the cold. He tries hard to find answers for the questions she asks because he remembers enough to not want that, but the punishment never comes even when he gives her nothing.

Specific questions are usually better; details help him to catch the fragments. When Natalia asks him what he remembers of his last mission there is only a blank space in his mind; she asks him where he was on November 22, 1963, and he can provide her with enough detail to satisfy the most exacting Marshal. He doesn't tell her everything, but the detail is there in his mind. He may not remember what came before or after, but that moment in time is sharp.

He often retreats to the washroom after she leaves and vomits in the toilet, shaking. Part of him isn't sure why he does this, and another part of him is too suffused with horror to care about why. He's fairly certain that Natalia knows about it, but she doesn't speak on it.

 

Sometimes he remembers falling. He thinks he might have fallen forever. Sometimes he thinks it is the earliest thing he remembers, and sometimes he is certain it isn't. Order is more difficult that the memories themselves.

He does remember hunger. He is very small and the air around him is cold. There is a girl, and the both of them are curled together under a thin blanket. A woman frowns at them, worry creasing her face.

He remembers laughter. Plenty of laughter. There is one fragment in particular: he is still very small, but there is sunlight, the pavement of a street, and he is running alongside someone else, filled with elation. He can't remember why- it, and his companion's face, lie just past the edge of the memory.

He remembers death. A lot of death. The most common memories involve a rifle; sometimes his left hand is metal, sometimes it isn't. Sometimes there is no rifle, and his hands touch flesh. He gets surprised by these images sometimes, fragments drifting out of the corner of his mind. There is so much of it, but he doesn't like to think about it so he doesn't try to hold those memories, he lets them go back the way they came.

"You need to capture them," Natalia says one day when he says this to her. Her face is grave, as if she knows he does not want this. "You need to remember where the memory is supposed to be and lock it into that place, or it will continue to jump out and surprise you."

 

He remembers a tarnished mirror in a darkened house. The house is cold, poorly insulated. There is someone breathing in a bed not far away. He is there for a purpose his mind does not want to examine at this juncture, but it doesn't matter. What sticks with him about the memory is the mirror. He sees himself in fragments, the places where the silver is worn away showing only blackness, and it touches something inside of him.

Natalia stops him at this one, and he tells her, "I looked at it and remembered that I was once someone different." He shifts in his seat and stands, pacing warily. He keeps the table she is still seated at between them.

Natalia smiles softly. "That's good," she says.

He narrows his eyes at her.

"What is it?" she asks.

"They put me back under when I reported remembering." The words are halting, and he is watching her carefully.

She looks right back at him and her words are bold. "Do you think that's what I'm going to do?"

He shakes his head but his arm is whirring softly. "I don't know," he says honestly. "You..." He is extremely annoyed with her today and it makes the words not flow smoothly. "You speak like them, most of the time. But you are..." He is searching for a word, and eventually says, "Soft."

She laughs, surprised, but she turns the sound into a controlled, tight smile and lets her words melt into her mother tongue. "You think because I am Russian that I work for Hydra?"

He scowls. "That's not what I mean!" He paces back, to the far reaches of the enormous room that he has been confined to. "You speak so carefully. Everything is controlled. That is how you are like them. But you are..." He gets frustrated, and, pacing back toward her, just says, "Not. You are not like them." She smiles again. This time it is dark and sardonic and he says, "You smile too much."

The smile immediately flees her face and she says, "I'm sorry. Does it bother you?"

He makes a frustrated sound and brings his metal fist down on the table, hard. She controls her flinch so that it barely shows. "No. It's how you are aren't like them."

The recognition flashes across her face in a quick wave of micro-expressions. "I smile because I'm comfortable expressing how I feel," she says, and he knows she gets it, she understands it is not her smiling that bothers him but the genuine emotion she feels that is at odds with the cold and the men who kept him there.

But he's gotten a flash of insight of his own and he says, "They trained you, too. That's why you sound like them."

She nods. "I decided I didn't want to do their work any longer. So I didn't."

He stops. "You didn't," he repeats, and he's backing toward the wall quickly, folding himself down into a ball, his breath coming fast.

Natalia follows him, her eyes alert, but she stays well out of arm's reach. "That wasn't an option for you before," she says, and her voice is low and soothing. "But it can be now. Is that what you want?"

He doesn't remember who the men were or what they wanted from him. He's not sure he remembers how it even feels to _want_ anything himself, but it is in his very bones that he _does not want_ to do what they want him to do. His flesh is shaking in rebellion because he remembers that wanting such things hurts. It hurts a lot.

Natalia is waiting, patiently. He's breathing too hard to answer her, but he makes a sound in his throat that she takes as assent and she nods. She sits with him until he calms, then she asks, out of nowhere, "What do you remember?"

"There is a man," he says. "He is everywhere." He presses his right fist to his face. "In here. I... I can't see his face, but I know it's him. He is _everywhere_." He frowns. He pulls his hand from his face but both his fists are clenched, flesh and metal. "Who is he?"

"Who do you think he is?" she counters.

He slams the metal fist into the wall. "If I knew that I wouldn't be asking _you_."

She smirks, and he decides that today he definitely hates her a little.

  
She doesn't answer his question, but a few days later she brings him a stack of books, magazines, and papers. They appear to be about all different topics and in multiple languages. She sets them on the table, on top of the tablet she brought him before that he doesn't like to use.

"These are for you to read," she says. "If you get bored."

He snorts at her, but he is a little bored, and certainly restless, and he starts sorting through the pile as she sits at the table touching the screen of a small device like the tablet that fits in her hand.

Near the top of the pile there is a Japanese book about racecars that was obviously written for a child; he looks at it for a moment and wonders what kind of game she's playing with him. Three more books and the next one is a sketchbook. He flips through it; some of the pages are filled. Most of the images are street views and they _itch_ at something in the back of his brain. He stares at one of them in particular for a long time, but it just itches without ever _being_ anything, and it frustrates him. He slams the book shut and glares at Natalia.

She is sitting at the table, looking at the device in her hand and completely ignoring him.

He growls softly. Next in the pile, there is a stack of single sheets with photographs on them. They are bright and colorful and he flips through them while he thinks about the best way to kill her with one of the sheets. If he threw it at the correct angle with enough force he could probably slit her throat, but it might be easier to roll the photograph into a slender tube and then stab her in the eye with it. He notices that some of the pictures tickle at some of the fragments of his mind, but none of them are as annoying as the sketches in the book. But then: the second to last photograph is a man's face. He takes the photograph in his hands and stares at it.

He stares for quite a long time.

"Is that him?" Natalia asks. looking up with a nonchalance that is seemingly un-faked, as if she didn't organize this entire situation so that he would find this photograph.

The man in the photograph is staring off into the distance. He's smiling absently at something. Every piece of his face is perfectly familiar, but there is nothing else, no attached memory that says _why_ he is familiar. The fragment memories that feature the man are stirred up so violently by the image that he cannot hold on to any of them; they are spinning through his mind in a way that feels warm.

"Who is he?" His voice is ragged and he is not in the mood for her to put him off again.

"Soon," Natalia assures him soothingly. She has stopped pretending to pay attention to the device in her hand and asks in her own turn, "What do you remember about him?"

By this point he understands that she's trying to help him repair his own mind; that is a concrete understanding built from a succession of memories of events that have actually physically taken place in this room. So, instead of taking the device and smashing it over her head or punching it through her shoulder, he takes a deep breath. He sets the photograph on the table and stares at it, thinking hard. Coaxing the fragments into being still long enough for him to connect them into a cohesive image is an exhausting chore, but he is pleased that he has some success.

"Protect," he says finally. It's the most concise word that goes with that face.

"He protected you?"

He frowns. "No. He was small. Needed protection. Kept picking fights." He thinks again. Something about the words seems wrong, but he says them anyway. "Such a punk." Strange in his mind, but the description feels so _right_ on his lips. He tenses, his metal hand gripping around the edge of the table.

Natalia speaks, and her vowels are thick with the sound of Brooklyn. "I've heard that you can be quite the jerk yourself sometimes."

Her words strike him like a physical blow, and he doesn't even have to think- he grins a wry grin and runs his hand through his hair, and says, "Never had a dame call me that, only Steve." And his mouth opens soundlessly, reaching for something that isn't, quite, there. The information is crashing over him, but not in the full waves of revelation he wants- that he'd hoped for- still in the worn and smeared mirror fragments. Like the sketch that annoyed him the most, the one of the street: he can see parts of the street in his mind that are in colors, the brown brick, the cobblestones, but everything else is charcoal. But above it all there's _Steve_ \- a name to go with the face that he can now fit into every memory. He doesn't remember his own name but, "Steve," he says again, holding it like a lifeline that, as the tide pulls him under, pulls him back. His hands are flailing against the table and he forgets where he is. "I don't... I don't speak Russian."

Natalia smiles at him patiently. "You appear to speak several languages. But, unlike me, your first was English." And he recognizes that her voice sounds different because she has started speaking in English. The Brooklyn accent has melted away, but her curved lips are soft and encouraging. "How do you feel about Steve stopping by?"

"No." He holds onto the table; the metal is crumpling in his grip. His mind is out of order. "I... Steve." The fragments surge up suddenly, pulled by the association of the name, and he remembers: Steve naked and pressed against him, blood comes from Steve's lips as he drops to his knees, Steve reaching a hand out to him as he falls from the train, Steve tiny and frail against white sheets but smiling, Steve a slender warmth sitting beside him at a baseball game. "Did I kill him?" He remembers the knife, blood on Steve's lips, Steve's blood on _his hands_ , but he has a memory of a tent and the warm heat of Steve's arms around him and this memory feels later though it's hard to be certain.

"No," Natalia says. "Steve is alive."

He breathes. "Good. That... is good." His metal hand clenches and he frowns. "I... think Steve should... not come. Here." His other hand is shaking.

"Okay," she says. "No Steve yet." She smiles. It's pleasant and warm and patient. He feels like this particular smile is itself a lie, but he knows her patience is not. He nods.

 

Sometimes when Natalia leaves he feels someone watching him. It's not the cameras, but another sense, of someone in the room that he can't see. Today isn't the first time he's felt it and it puts him on edge. There is someone here, hunting him. He remembers, vaguely, that there are other people who have been in the room- associates of Natalia he assumes- but none of them has this invisible presence.

He believes Natalia enough to know that it's not the men from the cold; truthfully, he's aware that he's transgressed far past what usually got him punished and he knows they never would have let him get this far if they were watching now. There is another entity present. He's not sure if he should mention it to Natalia. It might be a test, though he's not sure for what.

 

He spends the rest of that day lying on his bed remembering Steve. The name gives him more control, and he can summon memories. There are a lot of them; he's known Steve for most of his life it would seem. Order is still a big issue, and he doesn't have a lot of context at times, but overall it is a day of remembering good things.

 

 

It's a few days after he remembers Steve's name when Natalia brings him a small device similar to the one she's usually toying with. "It's a satellite phone," she says. He gives her a withering look; he knows what it _is_ , he just doesn't see what it has to do with him. But she gestures with it at him and he takes it from her hand after a moment. "Play the messages," she says.

He presses the button, and suddenly he is drowning. "Hey, Buck," a voice says, and his soul is screaming _Steve_ , "I hope this is what you wanted." He has to put the phone down because his hands are clenching, metal and flesh, and he doesn't want to break it, doesn't want Steve's voice to stop.

On the phone, Steve chuckles, the sound on the edge of hopeless. "I suppose I sound kind of desperate," Steve says, "but... I thought you were dead, Bucky. I'm... It might be selfish, but I'm so glad you're not."

The recording ends. He stares at the phone. "Bucky," he says, hoarsely. "That's me."

Natalia nods. She is inspecting her fingers in a show of nonchalance, giving him the privacy of his emotions as much as she can. He appreciates that, though it is not emotion so much as discovery that floods through him. His name, Steve's voice- it's like a fuse line that ignites various pieces of his mind, illuminating them. The fragments have more weight and texture to them: his mother's smile, a man speaking Russian at him while tweaking something in his mechanical arm, 15-year-old Steve and him sneaking into a moving picture show, the smell of rain in Italy, the way a bullet enters a man's head at 1,000 yards, Steve with pneumonia tiny and fragile against the stiff white sheets, Steve all hard muscle pressed against him and moaning in his ear, being aware that what he is doing is _wrong_ as he snaps a woman's neck, night in Brooklyn in the sweltering of late August, Steve coming toward him as he slips a knife into flesh under Steve's ribs. No order still, but through all of them a sense that had been missing before- the sense of a _person_ that those memories belonged to. A person with desires, and opinions about those desires.

 

Natalia leaves the phone with him. He can't bring himself to listen to the other messages at first, but Natalia doesn't come the next day, and he can't sleep, so he presses the button and listens.

"I love you, Bucky. I always have. I always will."

"If you don't want to talk to me, call Natasha."

"Are you okay? Are you getting enough to eat?"

"This field of flowers we saw today reminded me of that town outside of Augsburg, in '43. Do you remember?"

And he does remember, the way the flowers spread in waves as the Commandos came into the town under a setting sun, and the grin on his face and the sap making his hands sticky as he cut huge bundles of them and lay them at Steve's feet.

 

The next day Natalia returns. "Rough night?" she says.

He glares at her for long moments before he allows, "I suppose."

She raises an eyebrow and confirms some things he's suspected about the surveillance they have on him, "We don't have any observational capability in the bedroom, but I could hear you screaming from the pick-up out here."

He shrugs. "I don't remember." And it's true in that he remembers _having_ dreams, but he doesn't remember what they were about. He's aware the nightmares were more intense than usual last night, but they still didn't wake him. "It happens almost every night," he does tell her. "I dream. I don't remember."

She looks at her fingers, and he thinks she might be a little bit envious. "Your mind just reordering itself?"

"Sounds right."

She nods.

He moves the conversation on to something more important than him. "Steve. I need to see him," he tells her.

She nods again. She doesn't comment on the complete reversal of his previous declaration. She only stands from the table and says, "Four days."

He wants to tell her _no, now_ , but he nods. He doesn't ask why. He can wait.

 

Her next visit is on one of those days when the memories come out of order; in reflection, he was anxious about the future promised contact with Steve and he forgot to do his mental inventory. The anxiety took his mind to a different place, to memories of cold mud, the sound of mortar fire, and people dying around him.

This third time he comes the closest to succeeding in killing her, but she still leaves him in a writhing mess on the floor. She fights dirty. As he's remembering who she is, as he remembers everything she's done for him, he thinks that's a good thing.  "'M sorry," he murmurs as she steps around him and to the door. She pauses a moment, but continues out the door.

 

The day after this is the fourth day. A man walks in instead of Natalia.

His metal hand clenches. "Did I hurt her?"

The man shakes his head and grins, a sort of lopsided, easy gesture. "Nah, Tasha's fine. I just thought you might want a fresh face to talk to."

He has suspected that "Natalia" and the "Natasha" from Steve's messages are the same person; this man would appear to confirm that.

The man sits down in Natalia's chair. "What do you want me to call you?"

It's a novel question. Natalia never calls him anything; she just appears, her eyes knowing. Steve calls him Bucky. He remembers that his name is James Buchanan Barnes. He frowns and says, "Barnes is fine."

The man nods. "Do you remember me?" the man asks.

"Yes," Barnes answers, and it's true. He remembers meeting a group of marines in a forest, Natalia among them; he calls himself "Bucky Barnes" this time, and Steve is there. He can't quite remember the man's name, but there is something else. He frowns. "I owe you something."

The man's grin breaks out wide and he starts laughing. It's an easy, warm sound and he leans forward over the table companionably in a way that Natalia never does and says, "Yeah, buddy, yeah you do." But he's laughing, so Barnes thinks maybe it's a joke. He smiles, tentatively, feeling out the expression.

"Clint Barton," the man says, one finger tapping his chest. "Let me know if there's anything you need."

Barnes thinks. "I would like to see Natalia." He's not sure he believes he didn't hurt her. "I... would like to see Steve." This last feels like a dangerous request.

Barton nods. He points to the phone. "You've got Steve's number in there. He’s back today, too, after we wrapped up our last mission. Give him a call and tell him to come down."

Barnes freezes. The small device on the table can connect him to Steve. He knew that, but he hadn't let his mind step that far. He's not sure he's ready to talk to Steve. But he has to be. Steve is everything. He's already pushing the callback button on the last message screen.

It rings for longer than he feels any person should be able to stand. Finally, it stops. "Hello?" It's Steve's voice. He sounds hopeful.

Barnes swallows, but his throat is too dry and it takes several tries before he can say, "Steve."

"Bucky." There is such excitement in Steve's voice. Steve is trying to hide it; Bucky remembers his words, _it might be selfish, but I'm so glad_. When Barnes doesn't say anything else, Steve asks hesitantly, "How are you?"

And that's not a question Barnes can answer. So he says, "I don't know." He doesn't need to know a lot to know that this answer is going to sadden Steve, so he says, maybe too quickly, "I want to see you."

"Yeah?" Steve's voice is light and breathless with excitement. "I'll come right down, Buck."

"You shouldn't," Barnes says suddenly. He's looking up at Barton. "You should stay away from me."

"Bucky, what do you remember?"

Barnes puts the phone on the table because he has to press his face into his hand and he doesn't trust the metal hand with the phone. "I don't know," he says helplessly, the frustration boiling over because he's sick of waiting and it doesn't seem to be getting better fast enough to keep him from going crazy all over again. "It's all mixed up, and sometimes I don't remember it in the right order, but I want to see you." Because even speaking to Steve here, now, all he can think about is the grate of bone against steel, the way the knife slid in between Steve's ribs, the blood on his lips. Why _is this the most vivid of his memories?_

Barton takes the phone from the table. He looks at Barnes and says to Steve, "I think he's worried he killed you and he needs visual confirmation as to your status. He's worried about Tasha, too. And he's worried he's going to try to kill you again if you do show up. FYI."

"We'll be right down," Steve says firmly, and Barnes isn't sure if he should thank Barton or hurt him.

He must be glaring at Barton, because Barton slaps the phone down on the table and points his finger at Barnes. "Royalties," he says. "That's what you own me. Like seventy years of interest, too."

And Barnes remembers the Hydra base, Steve warm underneath him, and Barton finding them there. It's just a fragment- he doesn't remember how he got there or what happened after- but he says, "You invented turning Russian assassins from the dark side."

Barton laughs again. It's a sound that Barnes likes, full of mischief and promise.

They don't have to wait very long before the door opens and Natalia walks in. She smiles at Barnes. "I'm alright." She raises an eyebrow as if to ask why he thought he could actually take her down, but he remembers the deaths of too many people happening at the ends of his fingers and he just shakes his head silently. Her eyes are soft in empathy; Barton's are as well and Barnes has the absolutely wild thought that these people understand him and he would like to know them better.

About five steps behind Natalia is Steve. He walks into the room and his eyes find Barnes immediately. "Bucky," he says, hopeful and determined.

Barnes pushes himself up from the table. Steve is taller than him. "I remember you being smaller," he says, and Steve smiles, an expression like sunlight, warm and welcoming.

Steve comes forward and Barnes can tell that he wants to hug, to touch, but he holds himself back. Barnes is the one who reaches out his hand. He can see the knife that he isn't really holding between his fingers sinking into Steve's side, so he can't quite bring himself to touch Steve, but Steve meets him halfway, reaching and taking Barnes' hand in his own, their fingers curling together as if they were made to do this, and Barnes remembers Azzano, after the POW camp, and the way Steve was new to him then but still fit against him like the other half to make him whole. "You haven't changed," he says in amazement, and he's stepping into Steve, leaning against him. "You were always a stubborn ass, I remember that." He's saying the words to Steve's shoulder, and Steve's arms are around him, holding him tightly.

Steve's eyes are shining. "I'll gladly be a stubborn ass if it brings you back to me," he says, voice soft and husky.

Barnes touches Steve's shoulder, his face, leaning into him. It feels like a dream, though he's not sure which part is the dream- this room with Steve and Barton and Natalia, or the gaping pit of darkness where the fragments of his memory whirl and whirl. "You can't really be here," he says, "but you are." And this is the most important thing- Steve here, his hand curling at the back of Barnes' neck, their foreheads resting against each other, and he wants to find more words to tell Steve how fucking _perfect_ this is.

But the whirl of memory reaches out to catch at him and drag him under. He gasps and stumbles away from Steve, and he's sitting against the wall, Steve looking at him worriedly, and he remembers. He remembers the knife in his hand grating against Steve's rib bone, but he remembers what came _after_ that. In order now he sees himself following Steve back to Steve's camp- knowing _that face_ \- coming to him because even though he couldn't remember, he remembered. Steven Grant Rogers was written in his bones, and he turned on those who made him and he went back to Steve, Steve's welcome for him never fading- he's crouched under a bush in the rain holding the phone in his hands, _I never want you to think that any of it could make me stop loving you because that'll never happen_ \- and he found himself, he found Steve by _himself_ , and they came back and _took_ it from him, the pointed tip of the scepter piercing his heart and filling him with ice.

Barnes is moaning in pain, but the sound becomes a hiss of anger as he pieces together some of the fragments. He reaches out and grabs Steve as he hovers close in worry, and says, "I found you, and they took you away from me again." Barnes is so angry, he tried so hard to find Steve, and he lost his mind again.

Steve nods and reaches to lay his hands on Barnes' shoulder. Barnes' hands are wrapped around Steve's wrists and he's squeezing hard, but he can't make himself let go. "I know, Buck. I... You found me in the forest. I looked up and there you were, and I was _so_ happy." There are tears on Steve's face but he's smiling. "When you reached out to me about the Hydra base, asked for our help, I was so happy Bucky. I want to help you, in every way I can." He leans in to murmur, softer, "Just let me be there with you."

Barnes nods. He wants this, he wants Steve there with him. This is right, correct, unbroken. He draws in a sobbing breath; his heart is pounding like he's been running all day and he can't catch his breath, but he leans into Steve, holds Steve close.

"Come with me," Steve says. "You don't have to stay here."

"Not yet," Natalia says. Barnes forgot she and Barton were still there.

Steve turns to glare at her mulishly. "He remembers me this time. He's fine."

She shakes her head with exasperation. "Steve, what if he relapses?" She says it gently but firmly. "He's tried to kill _me_ three times. Only one of them was necessary. The others were because he forgot." Steve looks unconvinced, and Natalia narrows her eyes. "You're going to make me bring up that time with you and Janet, aren't you?"

"He won't forget me," Steve protests. "Not this time."

Barnes rests his hand on Steve's shoulder and Steve turns to him. "She's right," Barnes tells him. He's looking past Steve to Natalia and she smiles her soft, patient smile for him. He knows she knows, what it's like. He's a little bit shocked to realize that it's a part of him that Steve will never be able to understand in the same way, and he finds himself truly glad of that. He touches Steve again. "I... I don't remember things in the right order. Sometimes. I. It would be better if I stayed here. For now." He doesn’t know what lies beyond the doors where Natalia always enters from, but he knows there are cameras here, that can watch him, stop him from hurting Steve. In this instance he welcomes the idea that they will punish him if he fails to prevent himself from hurting Steve. Steve will be protected.

The stubborn jut of Steve's jaw doesn't change. "Is this about the knife?"

Barnes flinches, but instinctively denies. "No."

Steve doesn't look convinced. "You're not going to hurt me, Bucky. I promise. Come with me. I won't let you hurt anyone else either."

A voice he doesn't know says, "Captain, as I believe Ms Romanov has already stated, ultimately the decision is not yours."

Barnes turns to the new voice, and he tenses, ready to fight, because this is it, the feeling of being watched, hunted, that he's felt so many times in this room- it comes from this man. He is tall and lean, and his green eyes flash with danger. Barnes instinctively is looking for ways to disable this opponent and flee. The man's eyes are sharply fixed on him, and Barnes has a vague recollection of a rooftop and combat.

Steve moves between them, almost subconsciously shielding Barnes from the other man, and says, "It's not your decision either, Loki."

Loki smirks in acknowledgement, and steps aside. There is another man standing behind him.

This man is familiar in some way that doesn't really register for Barnes, because he is already standing, moving toward this man, dodging those who try to come between them, and reaching for a weapon. He's not carrying anything useful, which is annoying but can be fixed.

He must have blacked out, because the next thing he remembers is Steve holding him down, asking, "Why do you want to kill him, Bucky?"

"Mission," he croaks in response. He's not sure why his throat hurts. He relaxes a moment, and Steve relaxes too, his hands releasing their hold, and Barnes head butts him and slips away from him. The mission must be completed. That is all he knows.

The man with the green eyes punches him in the face with an expression of vicious glee, and Barnes succumbs to blackness.

 

 

When he wakes he is lying on the bed in the smaller room, he can feel all of his limbs, even the fingers of the metal hand. The cold has not been used in the instance of this waking. There is nothing different about this waking versus the last twenty-eight times he has woken in this room.

Except that there is a man sitting beside him. He turns toward the man. The man is sitting on the end of the bed, leaning against the wall. The man stares into the middle distance, indicative of deep thought, and he looks weary. The moment he looked at the man he knew it was _Him_ , and the memories came rolling over him. "Steve," he says, and he remembers who he is, too.

Steve jerks, pulled from his contemplation, and he smiles at Barnes. "Bucky," he says, voice warm. "How are you feeling?"

Barnes takes a moment to evaluate. He was punched in the face, but he reaches up and he doesn't feel any damage remaining. "Fine." He frowns, he must have been out for a while. More details return and he says with dread, "I tried to kill someone." The memory flickers and he adds with some surprise, "I've tried to kill him before." Steve doesn't answer, and Barnes feels something tighten in his side. "I didn't... Did I kill him this time?"

"No," Steve reassures now. "No, Tony's fine." He seems hesitant, but eventually he asks, "Do you remember why you tried to kill him?"

Barnes frowns. "Mission." That's all there is. He scowls deeper. "I don't do that anymore." The last feels plaintive, almost desperate, because apparently he _does_ , and Steve reaches out to him.

"It's all right, Buck. We'll fix it." He's so confident that it can be done. Barnes feels washed away by the inevitability of Steve's certainty.

 

Steve says he won't leave Barnes' side, and he _doesn't_ \- Steve stays in the room with him, and Barnes is glad for that. With Steve there he remembers better. After much discussion, because Barnes would rather Steve be in the larger room, where the cameras are, Steve makes up a pallet across from where the bed Barnes uses is built into the wall.

Steve has a bigger issue with Barnes' nightmares than Barnes does, which they discover the first night. Steve wakes Barnes from sleep, leaning over him and calling, "Bucky! I'm here, you're safe," and other words that Barnes isn't sure he recognizes. It takes him a few moments to orient, but he knows Steve, recognized him the moment his voice broke through the nightmare, and Barnes is pleased by this. Steve is in everything inside of him, and he is helping to bring order to those places.

"Jeez, Buck," Steve breaths above him, pressing his forehead to Barnes' seemingly without the ability to stop himself. Barnes closes his eyes and tilts his face up against Steve's almost instinctively. "That sounded like a doozy."

Barnes pauses. "I don't remember it," he says, but that's a lie. He's not sure if it's because Steve woke him in the middle of it or if Steve bringing order to his memory brings greater retention to his mind, but he does remember this one. "No, this time I do remember," he corrects. "It was Rebecca." He barely remembers his sister beyond the name and a vague impression of warmth, tooth-baring grins and curly hair. "She was the girl I-" He stops. "There was a girl. On a mission. I-" He stops again and Steve's hand is warm against his. "In my dream it was Rebecca."

Steve exhales a long slow breath. "It wasn't really, you know that."

Barnes tenses. "Does it matter?" In his avowals Steve has not explicitly stated that he knows what Barnes has done, and Barnes would rather not have to speak the words when the images already lurk in every corner of his mind in both his waking and sleeping moments.

Steve leans away. "I guess not," he says finally, and he sounds sad.

Barnes feels his breath catch and suddenly he's breathing harder. "You said there was nothing," he says, not sure where the words are coming from. "You said you knew. Stevie-" And he's shaking and he can't stop.

Steve grabs him and pulls him tightly to Steve's chest, the light material of their t-shirts the only thing between his heart and Steve's, and he can feel it racing as much as his. "I love you, Bucky," Steve says, and Barnes feels the fractured bits of his memory resonate around those familiar words with an echo inside of him. "I love you, and there is nothing in this world that could make me stop." He tucks his face against Barnes' neck, and his lips are warm on Barnes' skin. Steve is shaking too, and Barnes isn't sure when that started.

Steve suddenly releases him, and Barnes feels a little bit of whiplash. "I'm sorry," Steve says. "I... I'm trying not to forget that you don't remember me. Not really. I-" He swallows. "I won't force anything on you."

Barnes stares at him. "I do remember you," he protests.

Steve is shaking his head. "No, I know. I mean-" He blushes. "What we were to each other." And he's looking at Barnes searchingly, like he doesn't want to have to say it and he's hoping Barnes will put him out of his misery.

Barnes narrows his eyes and leans in, and he says, loudly, "You think I don't remember fucking you? You think I don't remember the way your dick _tastes_?"

And Steve looks both overjoyed and slightly horrified. " _Bucky_ ," he chides, red to the roots of his hair. "Don't _say_ it like that!" But he pulls Barnes back to him, wrapping his arms around him tightly, and kisses him.

Barnes feels his heart tripping in his chest, singing at the feel of Steve, here, filling his senses. He reaches up and puts his hands on Steve's chest, halting him. "I remember," he affirms, "but I don't..." he hesitates, looking for the words.

Steve draws back looking horrified again. "Oh my God, Buck, I'm sorry. I-"

Barnes takes him by the shoulder and shakes him. "Dammit Steve, shut up for a minute." Steve does so, so promptly that Barnes is surprised. He takes a deep breath. "I remember, bits and pieces. You... You're everywhere in my head Stevie, even if I don't know how it all goes together. But I don't... I don't know that I can feel the way I used to feel." Because he can remember fucking Steve, and he can remember enough to embarrass Steve by talking about it, but his body is not looking to repeat the performance and hasn't in... well, linear time is hard for him but he figures it's been awhile. "At least not yet," he continues, because he has high hopes for getting that working again; if he's stuck with shitty memories in his head the least his body can do is help him replicate the better ones. Barnes has to snatch Steve's hands when Steve pulls them back and he places them back on his chest. "That doesn't mean I want you to _stop_ doing anything," he says in exasperation. "I just... It'll take me more time before I can be there with you."

Steve is looking at him searchingly, and Barnes wonders if he said it wrong. "I don't want to take advantage or anything," Steve says finally. "Bucky, you promise me you'll tell me if you want me to stop."

Barnes rolls his eyes and taps his left forefinger on Steve's nose. "Trust me. I'll let you know."

Steve accepts this, but his hands are much less intensely focused as they stroke down Barnes' back, and he only kisses Barnes once more before they lie down again and return to sleeping. Having discovered why Steve had previously insisted on sleeping on the other side of the room, Barnes puts an end to that. There's a danger in it- with Steve so close it's more likely that Barnes could injure him before he remembers Steve- but just feeling Steve beside him is enough to make his mind settle into a warm place and stay there, instead of whirling and dragging him to dark places.

 

Of course Barnes doesn't consciously remember _everything_ , or where it all fits in his head, but the only thing particularly annoying really is that last mission that he can't seem to dig out of his subconscious.

It's maybe a week or so later when the door opens. Steve and Barnes are sitting at the table in the middle of a game of Gin, expecting Natalia to arrive momentarily, but the man he's supposed to kill steps into the room- Tony, Steve says his name is- and Steve is happy when Barnes doesn't immediately try to kill Tony.

But Barnes shakes his head. "You're not real," he says. "I know who you are. I can feel your eyes."

"Tony" frowns. "Well, shit." He grins a dark grin and his eyes are green underneath. "I suppose we'll have to find a different way to test you." He comes and sits at the table casually, though he makes Barnes' skin crawl. "I'd rather not expose Tony again. What about me gave it away?"

Barnes shrugs. "I can feel you. You've been here before, watching me."

Steve tenses. "Loki," he says warningly.

The man with the green eyes waves his hand, dismissing Steve, and turns to Barnes. "That is very interesting," he says, but his voice would indicate that he doesn't in fact find it so. "You never said anything to Romanov."

Barnes shrugs.

The man grins. He is watching Barnes with a penetrative and curious look. After a moment, he says, "Let's try this." And he ceases to be the man with the green eyes, and he is the Target.

Barnes stands from the table and snaps out his hand, wrapping it around the Target's throat. The Target grins at him and suddenly he is the man with the green eyes again. He punches Barnes in the face.

 

When Barnes wakes, Steve is holding him and muttering under his breath. Barnes stirs, and Steve asks immediately, "Bucky? Are you okay?"

Barnes grunts. "I thought Dum Dum punched hard." He hasn't been out long and his face is still throbbing. He rubs his right hand over it with a groan. "That fucker doesn't like me."

Steve huffs a small laugh in spite of himself. His arms tighten around Barnes for a moment. "I suppose he has reasons," he says softly. Steve starts to pull back, to release Barnes from his arms, and Barnes places a hand on Steve's. Steve stops and he's holding his breath.

Barnes closes his eyes. Steve's arms around him are warm, comforting. He can feel Steve's heart beating. He turns toward Steve. "You feel like home," he says, his voice soft.

Steve's arms tighten around him and Steve makes a pained sound that has Barnes immediately opening his eyes and looking for a wound. Steve has tears on his face and his eyes are red as he looks at Barnes, but he's smiling. "I'm glad," he says. "God, Bucky, I..." He wipes fruitlessly at his eyes. "I want you to get back everything they took from you. I know it's stupid, and it'll never really-" And he can't say anything else because Barnes presses his lips to Steve's.

Steve kisses back, softly at first, but, as he presses in, he bumps Barnes' still healing nose and Barnes winces. Steve makes a commiserating face and says, "Come on," as he helps Barnes to his feet.

They go to the bedroom and curl up together, resting for a while. Barnes isn't sure how or why, but Natalia doesn't ever show up.

When his face stops throbbing, Barnes brushes the hair back from Steve's forehead and kisses him.

Steve is still for a moment, but then he responds. He is tentative at first, his head tilting slightly to better align their lips, but he leans into the touch and he opens his mouth. Barnes brings his right hand up to run his fingers along Steve's jaw before reaching back and burying his fingers in Steve's hair. The intensity is growing, and it's a little frightening but Barnes also hates the idea of stopping. Steve moans softly, and then pulls back.

"Bucky, I'm not going to do anything you can't join me in feeling," he says stubbornly.

Barnes snorts. "I thought you were going to let me make my own choices about things?" he wheedles, but Steve is adamant.

"You can't make choices for _me_ , Buck. Those are mine to make."

Barnes grins. It feels warm and easy on his face. "Of course, Stevie." He runs his hand over Steve's jaw again and feels Steve's resolve weaken at the way Barnes says his name.

"Bucky, no." Steve says. His voice is less firm, but there is a pleading edge to it.

Barnes pulls back. He remembers pleading. There are memories of horrors that don't involve dead bodies mixed in there with the ones that do.

"Bucky?"

Barnes flinches and realizes that he's moved to the other end of the bed and he's sitting with his arms pressed against his sides tightly, his fists clenched in front of him. He takes a deep breath and blinks away the memory. "I'm sorry," he says, because he does not _ever_ want to remember that again and it happened because of how he pushed Steve. "Doing things helps me remember," he tries to explain. "Specific things can trigger specific memories."

Steve nods, because he's seen that in Barnes' progress. And Steve relents. "If you want to... explore," he blushes, "if it helps you, that's fine. But," and he flushes red all the way to his ears, his chin lifted stubbornly, "I'm _not_ fucking you if you're not going to get hard."

Barnes nods. He can respect a hard line, and after this fragment orders itself in his mind he has incentive not to cross it. He leans into Steve, pushing him back until they fall over into a heap on the bed. Barnes kisses Steve's neck, then buries his face against it. They lie there for long moments, Steve stroking his fingers through Barnes' hair and Barnes breathing in the scent of Steve's skin.

"I'm sorry," Steve says, and Barnes looks down at him. "I'm a stubborn idiot sometimes. You're doing really well. I should probably tell you so more often."

Barnes shakes his head. He touches the panel above the bed that dims the lights. "I still tried to kill Tony." There is something about that, some fragment tickling at the edge of his mind, but it refuses to let him identify it. He's not sure he wants to, so he doesn't try too hard.

"Loki is trying to figure out what exactly your trigger is and help you fix it. Though God alone knows why he's helping you."

Barnes sighs. "You have better things you should be doing than hanging out with me all day."

Out of the semi-darkness Steve's hand caresses his cheek. "Better things? Nope. Not a one."

 

Maybe Steve doesn’t have better things he should be doing, but Barnes can tell he's getting antsy, in this room all day, with Barnes all day. Hell, the room drives Barnes nuts and he's used to it, to the limitations, to not being allowed out to wander about without a specific mission. Their daily calisthenics aren't enough to settle Steve's mind, and finally Barnes kicks him out.

"Get out."

"What? Bucky..."

"Steve, you have to get out of here. It's making you crazy. One of us is enough." Steve gets that stubborn jut to his jaw that is both frustrating and endearing. Barnes sighs. "Not forever. Just... get out, do something. Then come back." He rubs his face. "And send Barton in. I need to look at someone else."

Steve glares at him, but eventually he relaxes and he smiles. He reaches for Barnes, his hand settling on Barnes' shoulder for a moment before he concedes. "Alright."  


Barton is actually an extremely welcome distraction, because he brings his own entertainment.

"I can't believe you don't have a TV," he grouses.

Barnes shrugs. "Natalia brought me a tablet a while ago, I think it's still on the table. I like books better. Shoot the next one."

Barton takes aim and lets fly. "If you go too high you're going to fall on your face when you come down." He doesn't sound the least bit displeased by this idea.

Barnes grins. "Wanna put money on that?" He flexes and reaches for the arrow above his head, using it to pull himself up the wall. The room is several stories tall and he's about halfway up.

He's too far to see Barton's return grin but he can hear it in the man's words. "I think I could be persuaded to wager some of the interest you owe me. Or add to it, since you're so obviously not going to pull this off."

"Bold words from the man not dangling twenty feet in the air. You gonna make this worth my while?"

"So you're not just doing this because you wanted to be literally climbing the walls?"

It's so refreshing having someone to banter with. He does a little with Steve, but there's so much more to his relationship with Steve, and so much of it that isn't yet ordered that it makes it awkward sometimes. Barton is uncomplicated; Barnes doesn't have to worry about disappointing him.

Barnes hears the door open and he's a little disappointed that Steve has returned so quickly. As much as he loves Steve it's a lot of pressure sometimes. But he glances down and sees that it's not Steve; it's actually two people he doesn't know.

Barton greets them with an easy, "Hey. Did you need the room?"

"No," the woman says, glancing at her companion as if to double check her answer. She grins. "We're here to meet the new guy. Also, I heard tell I'm the closest thing to a civilian Tony can find that he doesn't mind risking in a test scenario."

"Darcy," her companion chides her.

She pats his arm. "Don't worry, babe. I know you got my back. So, I heard this place was full of supersoldiers. Where they at?"

Barnes smiles a little. The woman's voice is soft and warm; and he knows everything she means when she says "civilian" and "test." He releases his hold on the arrows and falls to the floor. He lands with a little whump. The woman inhales sharply and leans into her companion when Barnes enters her field of vision suddenly and unexpectedly, but she doesn't scream. Barnes finds her far too experienced in things that shouldn't be happening to be considered a civilian. But he looks at the tenuity of her and realizes that she is certainly nothing like Natalia. The word _soft_ comes to his mind again- like he had accused Natalia of being when compared to the men who controlled him- and unlike Natalia this woman embodies it fully. She is untrained and without enhancement or protection.

The woman smiles at him. "Hi," she says brightly. "I'm Darcy." She holds out her hand.

He steps toward her and mirrors her gesture. Her hand in small inside his and he barely puts pressure into his grip. The most fragile person he's encountered in the last forty-three days is Barton, who Barnes is aware wouldn't actually be considered fragile on a normal standard of measure, and he's never actually touched Barton. This woman with her openness and her delicacy scares him; he does _not_ want to hurt her.

He realizes that he should answer her greeting. "Barnes," he says. It comes out a little rusty. "Bucky," he adds, because he belatedly remembers that dames and civvies use your given name.

Darcy smiles again. She gestures to her companion. "This is Bruce."

Barnes releases her hand and turns to the man beside her. He is unassuming, somewhat thickset but not bulky, and Barnes would guess _civilian_ here, too, except the woman had said she expected him to protect her. And there _is_ a tight protectiveness around the man's eyes that speaks in warning but not really threat. "Hello," Barnes says. He holds out his hand, and the man takes it in a firm grip before releasing him.

"Hi," Bruce says back. He smiles, but it is a smaller gesture than Darcy's. "How are you enjoying the room?"

Barnes examines the question. There is a levity to it that suggests a fully honest answer is not expected, but he doesn't know what else to say. "It's boring."

Bruce laughs and Darcy grins. "It's for Bruce," Darcy explains to him. "Tony built it for him."

Barnes doesn't know what to do with that. It doesn't change the fact that the room is boring.

Bruce looks up at the trail of arrows imbedded in the wall. "I like the redecorating you've done."

The approval in his voice makes something in Barnes relax. He smiles. "Thanks. Had some help."

Barton is sitting at the table watching them and pretending to drink his coffee. He grins. "Hey Barnes, you should know that Darcy can't resist a good bet."

"Oh it is _on_ , birdbrain!" Darcy rolls up her sleeves and sits in the opposite chair at the table with an air of determination. "What's the bet?"

"He clears the wall in three minutes."

"Under two," she says with certainty. "You bring a watch, or should we have JARVIS time it?"

Bruce turns the third chair, Steve's chair, and sits in it backwards with his arms resting on the back as he watches them with a fondly exasperated smile.

Barnes shakes his head, but he's smiling. She may be soft and a civilian, but Darcy has a competitiveness that is well matched in Barton. "Bet I can do it faster than Barton, while carrying you," Barnes tells Darcy.

She grins maniacally.

 

It's a good day, and when Steve comes back that night, Barnes enjoys telling him about it.

"I talked to Tony," Steve says. "He agreed you can have some free time out of the confinement area." Barnes is already shaking his head in denial, but Steve holds up his hand to forestall Barnes' denial. "Only on this floor and the one above, only when I'm with you, and we notify Tony so that he doesn't try to come to those places. Okay?"

Barnes hesitates. The more variables introduced, the greater the likelihood that something happens that he can't control, that no one can stop him, and that someone gets hurt.

"Bucky." Steve is looking down at his own hands where he is sitting across the table but his voice is a caress. "You did really well with Darcy and Bruce today. Tony, Natasha, and I agreed that it's just him for some reason. You're not going to hurt anyone else."

Barnes shifts his weight. "What if... What if I remember something else. A mission to hurt someone else."

Steve's expression hardens. "You won't. You have to start trusting yourself, Buck."

He doesn't, but he trusts Steve. It's probably not the best idea- he does remember that Steve doesn't have the best track record when it comes to choosing the safest path. But- "Okay," he says.

 

And so he goes out through the door the next day. The wall across from the room is full of windows. He walks over to it, but his hands are wrapped tightly around Steve's. They are standing above a city that is spread out below them.

"That's Manhattan," Steve says.

It doesn't look familiar, though there's something deep inside Barnes that's curling his lip and saying, "So which way's Brooklyn?"

Steve laughs and orients him. "Well, this side you can see Central Park mostly, but over that way is the south end of Long Island of course, and if you squint," he points to the far right edge of the window, "you can probably see Brooklyn."

"Hmph," is Barnes' reply, and Steve is grinning, so Barnes thinks it's not so bad. He watches the city for a while. He can't remember ever being this far above something and still on the ground. He doesn't remember New York being so _busy_ either, though the cars aren't unfamiliar when matched against his other memories. There are airplanes in the near distance and he remembers, "There's an airfield, north side of Long Island."

Steve stills. "Yeah," he says softly. "You remember?" He sounds like he's trying really hard not to get excited.

Barnes frowns. "I remember going there to watch the planes take off and land. It was new. Mayor La Guardia pushed to get it built." His right hand is pressed against the glass, as if he can reach out and touch the airplane that's coming in to land now. It's no bigger than his thumb.

Steve says, "Yeah," again, like he wants to push for more but also like he wants to wrap Barnes up in a massive hug just the way he is.

Barnes sighs. "I remember someone threw a fit about paying a dime to see the airfield in Queens when we had a perfectly good one in Brooklyn." He raises an eyebrow at Steve, who has the courtesy to blush but still looks ecstatic.

"I remember," Steve says, an odd echo, but the words full of promise. He's smiling like everything is right with the world.

Barnes smiles back as he realizes that maybe this is going to work. He is getting to a place where he won't have to stay in the room forever- different but as confining as the cold- and he can still make Steve smile. It's a good place.

 

 

By this point, Barnes is pretty sure Steve knows more than he'll ever admit to about some of the things Hydra made Barnes do. So he feels really accomplished when he manages to get Steve to stop trying to protect him from the _idea_ of sex. It's not like those particular memories are at the forefront of his thoughts; it's not like they don't have to fight for space with a million other things, both terrible and wonderful.

Nothing about Steve being Steve triggers bad memories, and Barnes loves to sit in his lap, surrounded by Steve's arms that finally match the strength that Barnes always knew they held even when a stiff wind would blow the kid over.

A lot of the time he can feel Steve's lift strongly poking him in the back. Barnes pretends to not notice, and Steve doesn't say anything. Barnes is grateful for that. He appreciates that Steve's body confirms Steve's words- _nothing can change the way I feel about you, I love you_ \- that he is still... desired, even if he isn't comfortable exploring that just yet.

He remembers Steve. He knows Steve. The smell of his skin, the sounds he makes before orgasm, the way he gets silly with grins afterward. The way Steve's fingers feel against his own skin. He lies back against Steve and thinks about these things and ignores Steve's presence, pulling up the memories to play in his mind. He offers them to his own body, seeking a response. There is a slight stirring of interest. But it is inevitably followed by a memory that takes him in a different direction: the way bones crush under the power of the metal hand with such ease, the spray of arterial blood, the cold of the tank and the feeling of being bound unable to move.

It's frustrating. He knows he doesn't deserve Steve or Steve's love but that isn't a new feeling; he's never _deserved_ that. Steve has always been something too pure for him to deserve, the lessening of himself doesn't change that aspect of their relationship. He wants to give Steve happiness- he wants to be comfortable enough in his body to touch Steve, to make him smile.

So there's a point when Barnes thinks, _fuck it_. He's not perfect, he never was, and he wants to at least _try_ \- play it out and see what happens.

They're sitting on Barnes' bed, Barnes in the circle of Steve's arms. Steve has his face pressed against Barnes' hair, dozing lightly. He'd come in silently after having been out all morning fighting, aliens or robots or something- Barnes pictures the cover of one of the books that Natalia brought for him since Steve doesn’t seem in the mood for details- and asked for this, this warmth and closeness. Barnes would never deny him.

Barnes shifts and Steve startles awake. "Sorry, was I-" And Barnes kisses him, their lips pressing together. Steve reaches for him eagerly, hungry. Barnes twists around so that they're facing each other fully, and he reaches down and cups Steve's groin with his right hand. Steve is so warm.

Steve breaks the kiss. "Bucky, you-" But he stops himself, looking into Barnes' eyes. "You know my rule."

It's not a question so much as an affirmation. Barnes nods. He snatches Steve's hand and presses it to his own groin. He frowns; Steve is staring at him hungrily and holding his breath. "Almost," Barnes says as Steve's fingers trace the faint arousal. He looks at Steve. "Can I taste you?"

Steve opens his mouth and a guttural moan escapes, masquerading as the word “ _Yes_. _”_

Barnes leans in and kisses Steve again. Steve's hands are around his neck, pulling at his shirt, so hungry.

It's a little overwhelming, and Barnes leans back. He can see that Steve wants to apologize, but he presses the metal fingers to Steve's lips to silence him. He fists his other hand in Steve's shirt. "Take it off," he says.

Steve nods, and he strips out of the garment so fast Barnes wants to laugh.

"The rest, too."

Steve blushes, with a muttered, "oh jeez," but complies. He yields so easily; Barnes has so many memories of chasing after Steve, but now he feels like maybe Steve wasn't always the leader in their relationship. He sits for a moment, trying to collect bits of memory.

"You gonna join me, Buck?"

Barnes looks up. Steve is naked and flushed all over. Barnes likes it. "No," he says.

"Wha-" Steve cuts himself off. "Okay." He swallows, obviously not pleased, but he says, "That's fine," and his voice is firm.

Barnes growls and also strips off his shirt. That's all he's going to give, but damn it all if Steve doesn't make him want to give more. Steve looks pleased at the concession and doesn't speak.

Barnes leans over him and runs the fingers of the metal hand down the planes of Steve's abdomen. Steve's breathing hitches and Barnes' eyes shoot to his face.

"It's okay," Steve says with a weak grin. "Just a little cool."

Barnes watches him and lays the hand on Steve's thigh, his metal thumb stroking along the seam of Steve's hip. He's teasing, but also testing, and Steve knows it- his eyes narrow and his chin juts out stubbornly. "I trust you," Steve says. His voice is low, disappointed.

And he really does. Barnes could kill him so quickly in so many ways like this. So many vital organs in the abdomen, so unprotected, and spread before him like this, not even the shield of clothing or body armor. "I know," Barnes says. He moves the hand to the bed and uses it as support as he leans up to kiss Steve. "And I trust you. I don't trust me, but that you do makes it easier to." He's not sure that made sense, but Steve is smiling.

Barnes leans on the metal arm as he kisses his way down Steve's neck, the fingers of his right hand tracing the lines of Steve's body. He remembers but he needs confirmation- sensitive here? Yes, Steve groans. Here? Steve arches against him with a gasp.

"Bucky, please." Steve has his face pressed in the curve of Barnes' neck, but his hands are fisted in the blanket beneath him. "Can I... can I touch you?" He sounds so helpless, so broken already and they haven't even started.

Barnes thinks. "Yes," he allows. He knows Steve will honor his request if he wishes to rescind permission.

Steve's hands immediately grip Barnes by the upper arms, pulling himself up against Barnes. They are pressed chest to chest, Steve's teeth on his ear, and Barnes is hit with a memory so intense he almost falls over.

They are in a room, an overcast sky seen through the window makes the room dim, the whole place loud with the sound of music playing somewhere below them, the echo of men laughing loudly, the smell of beer and damp permeating all, and Steve has his legs around Bucky's waist, hands wrapped around his upper arms, teeth on his ear, and all Bucky can think is, _dear God, I locked the door, right? Fuck, Steve, don't ever stop_.

Barnes is gasping for breath and Steve immediately pulls back. "Bucky?" he asks, worried.

"'S okay," Barnes murmurs. "Just... remembered something." He leans in to Steve again; he smells the same as the memory- a little less alcohol and wool, but underneath the _same_ \- and Barnes is pleased. This is _Steve_. This is real. Steve looks concerned, and Barnes supposes many of his memories should elicit concern. He smiles. "London. When we got... reacquainted."

Steve smiles, but there are shadows in his eyes, too. Barnes nudges him, but Steve looks away. "I remember," Steve says. "It was the same bar where I... I tried to get drunk after you... you fell." His hands grasp at Barnes, desperate to keep him here, to prove him real.

Barnes kisses him. "I'm here, Stevie," he says. "Now, I'm here. We were there, then. Don't think about the rest right now." Steve nods against him and kisses him again.

Barnes knows he's not ready to replicate every part of what the memory showed him they did that night in London. But he can definitely prove to Steve that in the immediate future neither of them will be alone.

The fingers of his right hand stroke through the patch of hair above Steve's groin and curl around Steve's cock. Steve's erection has flagged a bit at their discussion, but Barnes' touch returns Steve to the matter at hand and soon the flesh under his fingers is stiff with blood and Steve is panting in his ear.

Barnes shifts, holding Steve still with the left hand when he tries to follow. "Bucky?" Steve asks. Barnes can hear the concern in his voice, but rather than fear it is anticipation.

Barnes leans in and breathes, the warmth of his breath ghosting over Steve's erection. "Oh God," Steve moans. "Bucky." He twitches, pulling against the left hand which holds him down, but he doesn't fight the restraint.

Barnes takes the flesh in his mouth. Steve makes a strangled sound and jerks, thrusting up against him. Barnes frowns, and pins Steve's hips with his right hand before he licks the underside of Steve's cock and takes the head between his lips again.

He is assaulted by memories of doing this before- and Steve doing this to him, though they are less common and his brain supplies _asthma_ without him having to search for the why- but overall they are quieter memories than the one from the night in London, and he is able to ignore them for the moment and concentrate on _now_. There isn't much time for technique in any case; Steve is already flushed and panting beneath him, "Bucky, I'm gonna come. Oh, G-uunh." And he does. Barnes tastes it. He had remembered the taste of Steve's skin, always perfect, but this salty mess on his tongue he decides he doesn't like. He's surprised to realize that he did, before. It's the first time he's ever explicitly disagreed with his remembered self about something.

Steve pulls against his hold, and Barnes releases him. Steve is grinning and warm against him, kissing him, his fingers pulling Barnes' face close to his, stroking through Barnes' hair. Barnes is pleased again- this matches information from his memory: Steve being silly and clingy after his climax; and it also recognizes the changes: Steve is playing with his long hair, acknowledging significant physical differences, touching his left shoulder with curiosity but without shock.

They lie together, their legs tangled. "Did that help?" Steve murmurs against his throat.

Barnes was thinking about Steve, and it takes him a moment to pull back into himself. "Hunh," he observes.

Steve's hand touches Barnes' stomach and telegraphs his path as he slides it slowly down Barnes' body, but Barnes lays his fingers over Steve's to affirm his quest. Barnes' body is definitely experiencing a positive reaction to the interaction and Steve's breath stills in his throat as he cups his hand against Barnes' groin. Steve grins up at him.

"Don't say anything," Barnes murmurs. "You'll scare him."

Steve laughs into Barnes's shoulder. His fingers press against a spot along Barnes's inner thigh that makes Barnes jump and inhale sharply. Steve is grinning, his fingers curling around Barnes' cock through the material of his pajamas.

"No." Barnes pulls Steve's hand away, and Steve looks up at him with concern. Barnes turns his body to lie against Steve's and kisses him. "I want to feel it for a bit," he says, and Steve nods. They kiss again, and Barnes savors the feelings of his body, of being well enough to have energy for feelings like this.

Their kissing grows in intensity, and after some moments Barnes turns more fully, leaning over Steve, his knees to either side of Steve’s hips, and his right hand behind Steve's head so that Steve can't escape from his mouth. Steve's hands are digging into the meat of Barnes' ass, and he can feel himself getting harder. He moans, "Stevie, touch me. I want to feel you."

Steve surges up beneath him, pulling Barnes down against him with a soft _oof_. This was not exactly what Barnes had in mind, but he pushes his hands against Steve's chest, and finds he doesn't want to go any farther. Steve had a hand down between their bodies, wrapped around Barnes' cock, and so Barnes lies against him, fucking into his hand and kissing his mouth red and swollen, little sounds of want falling from his lips.

When he's done, Barnes falls down completely on top of Steve, letting his body melt into Steve's. He's boneless, and so _fucking_ content, and he just wants to look at Steve's stupid face for the rest of his life.

Steve is smiling at him, softly, and Barnes thinks maybe Steve is doing his own memory inventory, comparing Barnes to his memory of Bucky. Barnes would be worried about getting it wrong- because Steve is the only one who can know how much of who he was that he's managed to put back together in the wrong way- but right now he's so pleased that he doesn't even care, and it kind of hits him how _Bucky_ of him that is. He cups his right hand around Steve's face and pulls him down to kiss him. It feels so right. There is plenty about him that isn't, but this, Barnes thinks, is _right_.

 

 

It seems like he's been in this forever- the eternity of fifty-seven days of his remembered unbroken, continuous existence- and finally one day the man with the green eyes walks in the room. He doesn't look particularly pleased, but the man called Bruce is with him. He's holding a device in his hand and he looks at Barnes. "I think we figured it out." He smiles.

Barnes would return the expression, but the man with the green eyes is watching him. "What?" he says without taking his eyes from the threat.

"Oh, um, the reason you keep trying to kill Tony. I think he figured out how to fix it." Bruce holds up the device in his hand. Steve's hand is an encouraging pressure on Barnes' shoulder. He's pretty sure Steve already knew about this; he'd been extra bouncy when he'd returned from his latest mission yesterday.

Barnes nods to show he's listening.

Bruce smiles encouragingly. "You have to wear this device. It, um, accesses your memories." Barnes tenses, but Steve's hand is warm, resting right at the seam where metal meets flesh. "It gives you control over the memory, the ability to manipulate and change it."

This catches Barnes' attention. "How?" There are so many more things he wants to ask, but that sound is the first one out of his mouth.

Bruce's expression is empathetic. "It doesn't really change anything," he explains. 'It just helps you explore the memory, feel more okay about what happened. There's something about this particular thing that your mind is not letting go of. This should help with that. We'll get it set up and then we'll have Tony come in."

Barnes does not like this idea. But constantly trying to kill your host is really rude. He's not sure what to do. And the man with the green eyes skeeves him out.

Bruce seems to sense this. He withdraws his hand with the offered device and goes to sit at the table, away from where Barnes and Steve are standing. And he says, "Loki, if you would go check on Tony."

The man with the green eyes smiles evilly at Barnes. But he does leave. Barnes takes a deep breath.

Steve is standing next to him. "It's your choice, Buck. I'm not gonna make you. I won't let anyone," he says darkly, and Barnes knows that Steve noticed how much the man with the green eyes unnerves him.

"I know." Barnes says. "But it's really rude to keep trying to choke your host."

Steve smiles.

They go over to where Bruce is sitting at the table pretending to read with fascination what turns out to be Barton's scorecard from their last game night. Barnes is a little impressed; Bruce is very good at pretending that things are interesting.

Bruce returns his attention to them and holds up the device. "Tony designed it, but since he can't really explain it to you before it helps you reconcile your desire to kill him...." He gives a sort of half shrug and a _shit happens, what're you gonna do_ smile. "You tuck it behind your ear like this," he shows Barnes the parts of the device, "and then this part comes in front of your eye and rests on the bridge of your nose, like this. And this is going to pinch a little right in your temple." He looks at Barnes seriously. "It's going to need to establish a neural connection in order to make this work. It will be accessing your brain, but only you will determine what it does and you can take it off at any time without repercussion. Okay?"

Barnes nods and takes the device from Bruce's hand. He stares at it for a while. But it's in his hands, it's his decision, and he puts it on his head. He barely feels the prick at his temple, and suddenly he feels weird. Not... bad weird. Just... weird. Like his mind has expanded suddenly to fill the room, this entire room, and he barely notices that Bruce says, "Okay, JARVIS," and the door opens and the Target is there.

Barnes remembers the place in Albany. It is a vault of some kind, underground. It smells like grapes and dust. An old man is standing in front of Barnes and scowling at him. "I paid good money," the old man is saying as his jowls quiver.

Barnes realizes that the man is talking _at_ him, not _to_ him, and he jolts out of the memory enough to remember that he is Barnes, he is not in a wine cellar in Albany, and there are no old men talking at him like he can't hear every word. He reaches out his hand and Steve takes it. "I'm here, Bucky," he says softly. Barnes blinks. The wine cellar is all around them, and he and Steve and Bruce and Tony and the man with the green eyes are all standing in it.

Bruce says something quietly to Tony who responds just as softly, "It's part of the upgrade. Don't you want to move back in?" And his voice pulls Barnes back into the memory.

His handler is the one the old jowly man is talking to. The handler is a tall, slender man whose face quite often approximates an expression like a hungry shark. Barnes remembers him with detachment but his right hand is firmly wrapped around Steve's and his left is clenched and whirring. The handler approaches him, touches his cheek almost tenderly. He's holding a long object, like a scepter, with a pointed tip. "Kill Tony Stark," the man says. "Do you copy?"

And Barnes looks through the memory to the man standing in the room with him. Tony. Stark?

Barnes has killed a lot of people over the years but out of all the people he killed for Hydra, there are only a handful that were people he knew outside of a mission briefing. Occasional colleges who were determined to no longer be true to the cause. Once, a former handler. He remembers all of the dead, but some of the memories are hazy and he's never been in the mood to try to make them clearer.

But there was one other. He feels the memory of it building in him now. He pulls his hand from Steve's and steps back. "Stark." He remembers the snow, the way the motorcycle thrummed under him, the sound of glass breaking, the short cry of fear, the feel of flesh against the metal hand. He can see _their faces_ ; God why couldn't he see their faces before? "Stark," he says again.

"Bucky?" Steve's voice, worried, then, "Is it supposed to work like this?"

"I'm sorry I didn't have any other mind controlled army vets to test it on. No, it hasn't had that effect before." It's the Target, his voice also concerned as he says, "Take it off."

And Barnes pulls away, and says, "No." He's not answering them, but the dream that he's still standing in a wine cellar upstate. "No," he tells the jowly man and the handler built like whipcord. He punches the left hand through the handler, but it's just a memory and his hand goes through him. Barnes tears the device from his head and he's back in the room, the large room, in the City, and Steve is there. "Steve?" he affirms.

"I'm here," is Steve's response, and he steps closer. "I'm here, Buck. What do you need?"

He shakes his head. "Sorry. I'm so sorry." He's pulling away again, the memory full force in his mind now. Why does he only remember this _now_ , only see their faces now when all it can do is hurt everyone, hurt _Steve_ who brought him here for sanctuary only _thinking_ he knew how horrid Barnes had been? He comes up hard against the wall and he's holding his left wrist in his right hand like he wants to tear off his own arm. "God, I'm so sorry."

Stark is watching Barnes warily, but he's curious too because he doesn't run when he should. "Why? For trying to kill me? Honestly, I think even Pepper has harbored the desire on occasion, so it's not exactly new to me."

Barnes sinks to the floor and bangs his head against the wall behind him. Maybe he can kill himself, and remove himself from this situation. He tries to explain, but all he can say is, "No."

Steve is crouched next to him, looking worried. "Bucky, what's wrong?"

Barnes swallows, though his throat seems far too small. "Remembered. I remembered. I'm sorry, Steve. I should have remembered before."

Steve looks annoyed as shit, like he really wants to punch someone, and Barnes hopes against evidence to the contrary that Steve will punch him unconscious. "Bucky, it doesn't matter. It wasn't you. You didn't have a choice. Tony knows that you weren't trying to kill him because you wanted to."

And Barnes closes his eyes because he doesn't want to see, and he says, "Howard. And his wife."

He can feel the room get still.

Stark says, "What?" His voice is dazed and thin.

Barnes fists his right hand and pushes it into his face. "Howard Stark, sixteen December 1991, no witnesses." He breathes but it's like he's inhaling glass. "Slammed the window, car went off the road, no witnesses, God, I'm sorry." He curls in on himself. "Sorry." Next to him Steve is silent, his hand on Barnes' arm is lax in shock.

Someone grabs Barnes by the front of his shirt and hauls him up against the wall. It's Stark, and his eyes are fiery with anger. "You killed my parents?"

Barnes hears Steve protesting, "Tony, it wasn't him. It wasn't his choice," but the words are rote and his voice reveals he is still in shock over the news.

Stark nods, and he hauls back and punches Barnes solidly across the side of his face. "Oh, I'm sorry. Hydra _made_ you kill my dad, and Mom was what, _collateral damage_?" He pulls back for another punch. Barnes doesn't try to block him.

But Steve jumps up and grabs Stark's arm. "Tony, don't," he says, voice dark in warning. "It's not his fault."

The man with the green eyes is suddenly behind Steve and he wraps his fingers around Steve's wrist, his fingers closing tighter until Barnes can hear bones grinding and Steve releases his hold on Stark with a small, pained sound. The man with the green eyes throws Steve back against the wall, and says with a low hiss, "Do not touch him."

Steve's noise of pain pulls Barnes from his own internal misery and he is between Steve and Loki instantly, left arm raised, because no one hurts Steve. Loki's eyes flash with a brilliant blue light, and he smirks, and suddenly Steve is gone.

Barnes whirls around. Steve is not behind him, not pushing back against the wall, not in his periphery, nowhere. He turns back to Loki, certain he did this. "Where is Steve?"

Loki only smirks, and he punches Barnes in the face.

But Barnes has done this before, and he has no guilt holding him back with this one. He catches Loki's fist in his left palm and uses it to throw the other man over his shoulder. He twists around, ready to pin his opponent to the floor, but Loki is no longer there. He has jumped up and whirled around, and suddenly there are two of him- the second one is about to take Barnes' head off with a roundhouse, which he blocks. But the second one is an illusion, and it melts away as soon as it comes in contact with Barnes' raised arm. He wasn't watching the first one, the real one, and suddenly he has a knife in his gut. He punches Loki with the metal hand and lets himself catch the return punch and stumble backwards to gain some space to regroup. The wound will not imperil the mission objective; he pulls out the knife and flips it around, ready to return the blow.

"Stop."

Loki halts, his attention turned away from Barnes. The word itself doesn't register for Barnes, but the sorrow in the voice spikes his guilt, and he stops.

Stark is standing to the side, watching them. He looks tired. "Loki, bring back Steve from wherever you sent him."

Loki huffs in annoyance, but complies. Steve stumbles himself back into the room out of nothing, as if he had been running and ran through the wall of existence. Barnes breathes easier to see him.

Steve takes in the room at a glance. He comes to stand in front of Barnes, but what he says is, "Tony. I'm sorry."

Stark nods. He turns and walks out of the room.

Loki waits for a few moments. He's watching Barnes like he wouldn't mind killing him. Barnes doesn't mind it either; he wouldn’t mind in the slightest if it wasn't for Steve. Steve reaches back and his hand is warm and reassuring around Barnes' wrist. Stubborn, hopeless fool that he is, Steve will go down with him, and Barnes can't let that happen.

In a ripple of blue fire, Loki vanishes.

Adrenaline falling, Barnes starts to really feel his gut wound. He leans against Steve, looks up and remembers that they are not alone.

Bruce is standing pressed against the farthest wall. He is ostensibly ignoring them and appears to be counting his breathing.

Steve notices him at the same moment, and a dark frown mars his mouth as he wraps an arm around Barnes and hauls him to the door and out of the room. Any other day, Barnes would be excited that he's leaving the room again- and this time there's a sense of finality to it as he seems to be returning it to its former occupant- but he remembers the look on Stark's face and he's tired, too.

Steve hauls him to the infirmary, and a Doctor Fraiser, whom Barnes finds vaguely familiar, patches him up.

She frowns at the cut and side-eye glares at Steve. "Well it looks like you avoided the major organs. He'll probably live."

Barnes finds her hilarious. Steve is feeling bad enough about what happened that he doesn't correct Fraiser's incorrect assumption that Steve is the one who stabbed Barnes.

When she leaves them, Barnes watches Steve. Steve had said that there was nothing Barnes could do that would make Steve love him less, but he wonders. Barnes has probably driven a rift between Steve and his other friends- and they should probably get moving, get out of the building before Stark remembers that he should have Barnes put down like a mad dog. But Barnes finds he needs to know if what Steve said was right. If there really was nothing.

Steve is lost in thought, staring at the wall, but he seems to find whatever he's looking for. He shakes off his fugue and turns to look at Barnes, and almost immediately he sees Barnes' question on his face. Steve's expression softens. "Bucky." He leans in, his hand cupped at the back of Barnes' neck. "I... I'm sad, but I know it's not your fault.”

Barnes doesn’t think he says anything but he must breath in a way that sounds doubtful, because Steve grips him harder and shakes him slightly. “It’s not your fault," he repeats, and he speaks with such conviction that Barnes remembers why they followed him in the war- some snot-nosed, jumped-up kid who barely had the right training and certainly didn't have the right to be giving seasoned soldiers orders. But Steve always _knew_ , he knew what his goals were and he never wavered in them.

_I don't deserve you_ , Barnes thinks, but he doesn't say it because he knows it'll make Steve even more sad. Truth is an interesting thing, and Barnes finds comfort in the fact that it never changes, never has changed since his life began.

 

Barnes tucks the knife he took from Loki into his sleeve and follows Steve back to his room. It's... massive, much like the room Barnes has just vacated. "Are all rooms this big in the future?"

Steve gives a half smile. "No, that's just Tony." The smile dies.

Barnes huffs in a breath. "I should leave."

Steve is reaching for him, his fingers closing around Barnes' wrist before his mouth can even get around the letters. "No."

"Steve. I killed his parents. I can't expect him to let me stay here. Nothing I can do can undo that action." And it's terrible, and it's true, but also in a way Barnes is glad to remember because he knows where he stands.

Steve starts to get that stubborn look. "Then I'm coming with you."

Part of Barnes would like to try to deny him, but he can't. There's only one place that Steve belongs. "Till the end of the line," he says instead.

Steve just melts at that, and Barnes leans in to kiss him quickly, his hand tracing the line of Steve's jaw.

 

 They pack a single bag and Barnes slides in behind Steve on his motorcycle.

"You're leaving." Natalia steps out from behind one of the other cars in the garage.

Steve, about to start the motorcycle, freezes. He starts to answer, but Barnes puts a hand on his arm. "You know what I did," Barnes says. Natalia nods. Barnes nods back at her. "I can't assume he won't retaliate further." And Barnes can feel Steve's muscles tensing as if bracing for that battle. Barnes raises his eyes helplessly to Natalia.

She gives him a wry grin. "It's a curse," she says. "But one that's worth it."

Steve cocks his head at her. "What are you talking about?"

"You, Captain Bullhead." She steps back, releasing them. "Call if you need anything."

"I will," Barnes promises. He has the satellite phone, his only true possession, tucked into his front pocket.

She nods, and they drive away. The city around them is loud, and Barnes isn't sure he's ready for this, for anything other than Steve, but protecting Steve is more important than his own comfort.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soundtrack listing: "Who'll Stop the Rain" is written by John Fogerty and performed by Creedence Clearwater Revival.


	8. I Never Understood a Single Word He Said, But I Helped Him Drink His Wine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony needs a vacation from life, and so Loki uses the power of the Space Stone to take them to another planet.

 

 **Location:** Universe YOSLY, Designation: Delta  
Omam (a planet in the Dnalcei system)  
4 years and 10 months pre-anomaly

There is water crashing loudly below them, but they’re above the spray. The beach is a tumble of multicolored sand behind them- almost like someone broke a bunch of glass in the water though Tony would hope the effect is achieved in a different way. The rest of this world is mostly hidden behind a series of huge, green edged rock formations they're standing in the middle of.

Are you sure this is an alien planet?” Tony runs a finger down the slimy rock in front of them. “It looks like Jersey. I'll grant you it smells better, but-" Tony's litany is cut short as he steps under the rocky overhand of one of the formations and around to the other side. He looks up and stops.

Loki rolls his eyes. "Are you satisfied now?"

"Wow." Tony is impressed, he'll admit. The land stretches away as far as he can see- open rippling green and purple plains to one side, gathered dark and tree-like shadows spreading to the other. The open sky is so blue it's practically purple itself, a deep, throbbing indigo. But what really catches his attention are the... islands? They look like islands, floating in the sky. "Sky-lands," he murmurs, walking forward. "I think that's copyrighted. _How_ ," is his question, already working through the equations. "Gravity seems to be similar to Earth. No visible propulsion. Oh my god, it's _amazing_."

Loki catches him before he walks into a ditch and Tony abruptly realizes that wherever they are is a lot colder than where they left from. He shivers. For the first time he notices the natives. They are flying through the air, iridescent wings whirring, and they do not look happy to see him and Loki.

What looks like a patrol lands in formation around them; each of the creatures is at least as tall as him, the tallest looming over Loki even. They have hinged forelimbs with multiple joints like insects, which they are waving in a threatening manner and Tony is kind of annoyed that Loki didn't let him bring any toys. The mandibles look vaguely like Earth insects as well, and with the vibrant yellow pattern on their bodies Tony decides they look like bees. Giant, alien bees. That pollinate islands that float in the sky, why not.

He's hardly paying attention to what's happening, his mind is so fixed on the far off sky-land. The bee patrol is buzzing and hissing in an unfriendly manner and Tony pulls himself back to the immediate. He steps back, against Loki, flexing his bare hand in an unconscious stress release. "I'm assuming you have a plan."

"Plan?" Loki murmurs. "Where's the fun in that? I thought this was a vacation. Besides, what makes you think I've been here before?"

Tony whirls around. "What? I thought we were going to see a place that was your favorite. Goddammit."

Loki grins his old hungry, feral grin. He turns to the bee patrol and says something, the strange guttural language scratching at his throat. The bee people stop advancing and pause to confer before responding.

Tony grits his teeth and resigns himself to not knowing what the hell is going on. He wonders if one of the bee people would lend him his- her? its?- raygun looking device. Tony isn't even sure what it really is but he's pretty sure he wants to play with it.

"It seems they are at war," Loki murmurs to Tony and Tony perks up. "They believe we are spies."

"If you brought me here to get hung for treason, you’re sleeping on the couch for at least a _month_."

Loki's grin cracks into a real smile for a moment and he glances at Tony, mischief and warmth in his eyes. The air is still cold but Tony shivers for an entirely different reason. Loki cocks his head and listens for a moment, before drawing Tony close and draping his long traveling cloak over Tony's shoulders. "Be ready," he murmurs, lips barely moving.

Tony hmms softly, his fingers curling in the heavy cloth.

The warning is appreciated because when it happens it comes from completely the last place he was expecting. Something that he can only describe as a giant rabbit/dog hybrid comes loping out of the thickset trees near where they are standing. Its appearance causes widespread panic among the bee patrol, and they begin buzzing agitatedly. A woman is riding the rog- dabbit?- and she raises some sort of polearm over her head and whoops as she approaches them. The bees start shooting randomly with their rayguns, then scatter like the last one out's got to pick up the tab and Tony's a little impressed again.

The woman brings her loping steed to a halt near them. The dabbit looks down at them with angry eyes and bared teeth but the woman smacks it on the shoulder and it puts away the fangs. She gestures at them with her polearm; her voice is rough, her words also unintelligible to Tony, and her manner only slightly less suspicious. Loki answers her.

Tony sighs and crouches to pick up one of the raygun looking things which the bee patrol dropped. "Score," he murmurs, and feels around the edges of the device until he finds a panel that slips out and a catch that pops the thing open all along its long axis. He pokes through the crystalline wires, whistling softly. It's a different sort of energy source than anything he's seen before, but it appears to still follow the simple precepts of "energy source to fuel propulsion to create mayhem" of most projectile weapons, though as with most energy weapons the fuel is actually the thing being propelled. He'd like to see a demonstration of its effectiveness before he tries to mess with the power source, but beggars can't be choosers and he starts fiddling with the wires, trying to discover if the different colors mean anything or if any real information is contained in the ultraviolet spectrum- which he’s assuming the bee creatures can see with their compound eyes.

It takes a moment before he realizes that Loki and the woman have stopped talking and are watching him. He looks up. "What? Is she going to hang the spies or torture us for information first?"

Loki looks a little chagrinned- which Tony thinks means he probably won't _feel_ at all culpable if this trip does end up getting Tony executed. "This is apparently a warleader of the opposing faction in the conflict. She says her name is Snow."

Tony waves to the woman. She is both obviously female, wearing little more than skin-hugging leggings and a band over her chest to keep everything situated, and obviously alien. Her skin has a soft blue cast, which for a moment Tony mistakes as a reflection of the sky, and she has four eyes spaced evening around the front half of her skull and seven fingers on each hand.  "Hi Snow, I'm Tony," he says, pointing to himself, and he grins at her.

She smiles back, her drawn lips revealing long, white canines, and swings down from the back of her mount to walk over to him. She gestures to the object he holds, her long fingers weaving through the air like pieces of art all in themselves, and asks something that sounds questioning.

"Yeah, one of those bug people dropped it. Do you know what it's supposed to do?" He gestures his question at the device.

Snow mimes lifting the device, pointing it at a target, firing it, and demonstrates the result as a beam hitting her in the shoulder and causing her to fall to the ground.

Tony frowns. "A stunner?" He mimes the fallen person getting back up.

She shakes her head and speaks, gesturing to herself and then to her mount.

"She says it strikes down her allies so that they do not rise," Loki translates. "But does not affect her people in this way, or Ragnar, which is her steed. When she is struck she lives to stand again, and Ragnar shrugs off the blow of it even more quickly."

Tony quirks his eyebrows in surprise. "How many times have they been hit with it?" He snaps the case together and turns to point the device at the rog- or, Ragnar, as apparently it's called.

Snow blinks her eyes at him and places her hands over his with an amused expression.

"She says many times, but if you shoot Ragnar now he will think you an enemy and not lead you to their camp." Loki sounds as amused as Snow as he translates.

Tony rolls his eyes. "Fine. Can I try shooting you instead? If I don't figure out how it works, I can't figure out a way to stop it. And someone wouldn't let me bring any toys with me."

Snow shakes her head in bemusement. She gestures to the floating islands.

"The enemy will see us here. It would be better to retreat to the nearest camp and proceed from there."

Tony nods. He welcomes the arrival of the distraction from life-as-he-knows-it that this trip was supposed to be. The trip through the closely grown trees to the camp would probably be more interesting if he was a botanist, but he sees enough that’s different from what he’d expect that Loki has to keep dragging him back to the path. Avoiding thinking about things that he doesn’t want to think about means he doesn't really question getting involved in what is essentially someone else's war, at least not until they come to the camp of Snow's allies.

The camp Snow leads them to, she describes as being a combination of a martial outpost and refugee lodgings. It is filled with wild, crazy creatures, some of them with enormous, feathered wings that blot out the sky. Tony supposes the feathers make them look like birds, but they don't look like birds at all. Most of them have at least six limbs, some more, with several pairs of wings for each creature, and many have huge gaping mouths like fish, not beaks. Again, Tony's so busy looking at everything, that Loki has to snag him and drag him along with them by grabbing hold of the cloak Tony’s still wearing.

Snow brings them to what Tony would guess is the leader of the bird-people. The creature is taller than a two-story house and its wings flare up behind it like a halo of fire. It has a bearded chin and two sets of curving horns on either side of its face, and it watches them from deep, patient eyes- five of them. Tony sketches a bow, a small one, when Snow points him out to the creature; it feels right. He's never met anyone or anything that so definitively commanded respect.

Loki gives him an odd look, but he also gives the creature a small bow of the head and a gesture with his hand that makes it seem like more, and he says something to the creature that _sounds_ ornate. Tony blinks; for a brief moment he was so caught up in the newness, the alien-ness, of this all that he forgot that Loki was here with him and, despite claiming otherwise, knows more than he does about what’s going on. In spite of their relationship, Loki is something that is also alien to him a lot of the time, and Tony feels a quick pang of... homesickness? He's not sure, and it's gone again in a moment. Loki turns to him, green eyes snapping with playful fire, and Tony grins at him. "So, we pass muster?"

The creature speaks, so low and deep the frequency rattles Tony's bones and makes him think of earthquakes. Snow frowns and folds her arms. Loki murmurs, "This is the leader of Snow's faction. He is called King."

Tony frowns. "Snow, King. Those aren't really their names, right?"

Loki rolls his eyes. "It is a translation, Tony. You would not be able to pronounce their tongue."

Tony rolls them right back. "So what's my name translate as?"

Loki grins fiendishly, but continues as if Tony hadn't spoken. "King is pleased to accept any assistance we can give in their conflict with the people of the Queen."

Tony jerks his head toward Snow. "And what's her problem?"

"King seeks a peaceful resolution. Snow does not."

Tony sighs. War is the same everywhere it seems. "I don't make guns," he says.

Loki nods, impassive.

Tony sighs again. The bee's raygun is shoved in his belt and he feels it press hard against his side. "I'll see what I can do. Do they have a, I dunno, a workshop or lab or something?"

Loki translates his request. Tony is watching him carefully and he feels like there's a part of Loki that's really pleased about something. About being here, or about Tony's response to the situation, he's not sure.

 

There is what passes for a laboratory on this particular alien planet, and Tony meets a bird creature with eight limbs and seven fingers on his hands just like Snow's. He’s about the same height as snow too, which means he only towers over Tony by about a foot and a half which is fine, since Tony’s used to that. Loki introduces him as Siler, which Tony's pretty sure is just Loki fucking with him, especially when Siler addresses Tony as "Felger." But Siler speaks science, so Tony waves Loki off to do whatever while he and Siler nail out a common tongue. The speed of light in vacuum is a constant, but certain other measurements need to be redefined, and Tony almost gets completely sidetracked by trying to figure out the molecular composition of a stone like material on Siler's worktable. It bends and is soft as cloth, and doesn’t impede energy transfer, and Tony has _so_ many ideas.

When Loki returns with Snow at his side, Tony realizes that it's been hours, he's starving, and he may have just inadvertently reinvented Greek fire. "Actually, it's like the reverse of Greek fire," Tony says as he wipes his face and frowns at the dirty rag in his hand. "It activates while submerged in water, or when caught in a drenching rain as it were. And it doesn't burn so much as dispense nutrients to the soil, so actually a terrible analogy all around." Loki is watching him with soft amusement and Siler is waving his hands and talking a mile a minute to Snow. Snow looks skeptical; Siler is ecstatic. Tony pokes Loki.

"Siler is very pleased," Loki says and Tony could almost smack him for being too obvious but he continues. "He is telling Snow that they will be able to reclaim the croplands lost to the skypeople's decimation. This compound you have discovered is easy to create as long as he applies the instigator element as you showed him, and the ingredients are common among their people. They will be able to create enough by the time planting season returns to sow and nourish all the destroyed land."

"That does sound good." Tony rubs his stomach. "Do they have a food shortage? Because this brain doesn't work without caloric intake and I hope they don't."

Loki rises and beckons Tony to follow him. "Not as yet, but it has been their most significant loss in the conflict."

"Did you find out what's going on?"

"It would seem that the skypeople and their Queen began the conflict by taxing travel routes and killing those who could not pay. King's people are comfortable in the sky or on the ground, but they have been driven to ground by this. King's people are not trained in war, so they sought aid from the Bryndis people; Snow is the leader of their fighting corps. The skypeople have great difficulty in seeing things on the flat ground, which has been an advantage for King's forces. However, Snow has not been able to penetrate the skypeople's defenses and take the fight to them." They have been walking toward an open sided tent that smells delicious and as they arrive, Loki speaks to a shaggy creature whose golden feathers are so fine they look like hair. The creature gapes its mouth in what Tony assumes is a smile, and hands him a plate.

Tony accepts it. "So we got picked up by the home team."

Loki scoffs. "It matters little. They have no way to reach the skypeople's homelands. The inability to mount a decisive offensive will prevent them from attaining any victory in this conflict."

Tony looks at him as he eats with one hand. It tastes as amazing as it smells. After a minute he says, "So I guess it's a good thing that _we're_ here."

Loki scoffs again. "Tony, you cannot win a war single handedly. Especially if you will not make them weapons." He says the last almost condescendingly, and Tony feels himself bristle under it. Loki's never criticized him before; sure he can be a nonchalant bastard, but he's never had anything less than approving to say about Tony's work.

"Yeah, more weapons. That's what the world- the _galaxy_ needs." He puts the plate down, suddenly no longer hungry. He rises from his seat. "I'm going to see if Siler will help me take apart this bee zapper."

Loki follows him back to the lab area, which Tony rather hoped he wouldn't. But Loki's translating helps Tony learn enough from Siler's accounts about the bee zapper device that he doesn't have to shoot anyone or anything to observe its effects. He pretends to be annoyed about this, though he's not sure why. It wasn't like Loki was ever going to volunteer himself as a target, and he most certainly can see right through Tony's charade of annoyance at this point. There's a surrealistic flavor to his life at the moment that makes Tony try to cling to familiar ways as an attempt at grounding himself, but the mask that comes most easily and familiarly to him is one that he hasn't worn comfortably in years and he feels strange beneath it.

Loki leaves them for a while, and Tony lets the sound of the camp fade to the background of his thoughts as he flicks through the crystalline wires, feeling their energy. Loki's been acting weird, since the showdown with Cap over his pal the Terminator. Tony can't put a finger on it exactly, but Loki's comments earlier are just the tip of the iceberg really. Tony doesn't need to think about what he's doing with his hands, and he certainly doesn't want to think about what fucking _Barnes_ did to his parents, so he lets his mind settle on Loki.

Thinking about Loki isn't necessarily a productive pastime. For as long as they've been together, Tony wouldn't say that he really understood what Loki was thinking or what his goals were. He may have a handle on some of them, but... Tony remembers again Bruce's old observation about the bag of cats. He feels like Loki has changed a lot since those days, but sometimes it's still as if Loki is being torn in different directions by conflicting desires. Tony would offer to help him, but it's hard to offer help when Loki denies the existence of a problem.

Loki rejoins them in what Tony's gonna officially dub the science tent and makes a big show out of translating. In some ways it slows everything down more than when Tony and Siler would just gesture and grunt at each other, and Tony is getting even more annoyed with Loki. Siler keeps looking at him, but seems aware of the fact that he can't ask what's wrong through the medium of a translator.

So they just work around it. If they didn't have a project to work on, Tony would probably take the time to have a full blown argument with Loki but as it is there are more interesting things to do. It's Tony's idea to turn the crystalline energy source from the zapper into a stun net, but it's Siler who actually figures out how to make it work. They're putting the finishing touches on their prototype when an alarm sounds.

Tony looks up at the unfamiliar sound. Loki, having reclaimed his cloak, moves to where he can see down into the main area of the camp. Siler is talking rapidly, pulling at Tony as if he can somehow communicate the meaning of his words through haste.

But Tony gets it mostly. "I'm guessing air raid?" He gathers up the components of the device they were working on, while Siler takes the vial of nutrient fertilizer they developed and tucks it into the front of his tunic, securing it tightly.

"We're safe here," Loki says. "They cannot see us."

"What?" Tony stops and glares at him. "Then why did the sirens go off?"

"I mean this location," Loki gestures to the tent-like structure that surrounds them, "and the three of us within it. I have hidden it from the ability of the enemy to view."

"And why not the rest of the camp?" Tony explodes. "We can't just leave them on their own."

Loki looks at him like he's wondering why he's gotten mixed up with such an idiot.

Siler is obviously not a warrior. He says something to Loki then sits behind the table they've been working on, one hand pressed over the vial tucked against his chest.

Tony realizes, "He can understand you, even when you're speaking English."

Loki shrugs it off impatiently. "It is the All-Speak, not English.  All hear and understand in their own tongue."

Tony punches him. He could go into a rant about how Loki has been a fucking _asshole_ all day, pretending to have to speak the alien language just to make everything more uncomfortable for Tony, but he can see the bees from earlier flying over the camp, shooting down at the creatures below them, and there's no time.

He picks up their prototype and thrusts the second ground station at Siler. "Go set it up," he demands. "On this side. I'll take the far side." He runs off for the distant edge of the camp without waiting for an answer. He's so angry about Loki's selfishness that it takes him awhile to realize that he must still be invisible because no one pays any attention to him. "At least it's a good spell," he mutters to himself, and he tries not to pay attention to what is happening around him. The bee alien’s weapons are decimating the camp and on all sides the feathered creatures are crying out in pain or lying still in death. Some are fighting back, but it's easy to see that most of those in this refugee camp are not soldiers. He hears Snow's yell of challenge, and passes her and what looks like an entire family of Ragnars leaping into the air to grab the bees and drag them to the ground and stomp them to death.

Far off, Tony hears the almost sub-vocal roar of King. It passes over the entire camp and actually causes all of the attackers to pause for a moment and fall back. A thrill of victory pulses through Tony, and he's where he needs to be, beyond the edge of the camp. He sets the ground station on a rock and hooks in the power source. It starts to hum. "I hope you've got it working," he mutters to Siler, who can't hear him whether or not he's where he's supposed to be.

Loki jogs up next to him. Tony's about to start swearing at him when he realizes that it's not actually Loki, but an illusory double. "The other station is set," he tells Tony.

Tony nods. "If you can, you should warn everyone to stay down."

Loki nods and turns to face toward the camp. "I will notify King," he says, and a moment later, "It is done."

Tony takes a deep breath and flips the switch.

A golden net of energy spreads over the camp. The bees are buzzing in annoyance, but if they fly too close they get zapped.

Tony wasn't actually sure that this would do anything. It is, after all, a prototype, and he and Siler hadn't gotten around to running any sort of tests on the final step. "It works," he says, almost disbelieving.

"Of course," Loki says beside him. He sounds like he wonders why Tony ever doubted that it would, and Tony forgives him for a lot right there.

"Have you ever-" Tony doesn't really want to ask, but he really wants to _know_ , so he forges ahead. "Have you ever been caught up in something where it didn't work? Where you couldn't get out, and bad things happened? Things you couldn't control?"

Loki won't look at him. "No."

Tony nods. "I've been thinking about Barnes."

"The purpose of this excursion was for you to think about something else." Loki sounds annoyed.

"I know. But I can't." Tony sighs. "I feel like he should have known, you know? That he should have been able to stop himself, because that's what good guys do.

"But I _know_ that he couldn't, that they took that from him. I... I wonder sometimes, what would have happened to me if Yinsen wasn't there." Loki pauses in a way that Tony knows means he's actually listening instead of pretending not to listen. "He really kicked me in the ass and made me believe that I couldn't give in. They didn't try to brainwash me or anything, but..." He's looking down at the web of fiery energy protecting the camp, and he confesses something he's never confessed before. "I was close to giving up. I wasn't as strong then as I am now, and I... felt like I was at the end of what I had to give. That they were too much, too powerful, to win against, that I had too much weighing on me, and so I didn't want to fight for anything at all."

They stand in silence for a moment. Loki says, "You fight all the time, Tony. You fight those who seek to destroy your world, and those who seek to steal your creations. I find I cannot picture a version of you who does not fight to protect with every last breath that is within him." He smiles sardonically. "It is not a trait that I possess, but I seem condemned to surround myself with idiots of this nature."

Tony laughs in surprise. He reaches out to take Loki's hand, and says "Damnit, I forgot," when the double melts away at his touch.

From behind him, Loki laughs softly. Tony turns to find him walking up the ridge that sets the camp's border. He comes up to Tony and puts his arms around him, pressing his lips to the top of Tony's head.

"You're an asshole," Tony tells him.

"Hmm. And several other features I should hope."

Tony chuckles, but continues, "It's the reason you keep surrounding yourself with idiots, you know."

Loki stills, holding his breath for a moment, before he relaxes. "Is that so."

Tony nods.

Loki makes a soft noise in the back of his throat. "These bee creatures are wholly evil, to hear Snow tell it. They have no protection against weapons such as your repulsors. We could wipe their race from the face of this planet. Snow and King would never be bothered by them again."

Tony frowns. "No one is wholly evil. I mean, no group of creatures is. I suppose _people_ can be- like fucking Red Skull and whoever else runs Hydra." Tony leans back, letting his eyes fall shut. "I'm not going to kill anyone, so stop trying to prod me in that direction."

Loki kisses his neck. "Of course not, darling," he says in a lilting, facetious voice. He presses his lips to Tony's neck again, and says, out of nowhere, "I tried it, once. Before the Titan sent me as envoy to your world. I tried to destroy Jotunheim."

Tony's eyes fly open and he tenses. "Isn't that where you're from? Never mind, I remember- it made you crazy when you found that out. Crazy enough to try to blow up a planet." He takes a deep breath. "Was that what this was? Mi catharsis es su catharsis?  You want me to try to blow up a planet? I'm sure there's several people back home who'll say I've done plenty to try to blow up Earth. I don't think I need to start in on another planet, too."

He can feel Loki's smile against the back of his neck. "Then _that_ is what you were meant to gain from this."

Tony chuckles. "Easy out."

"Mmm, if you insist." His lips are going lower, and Tony would swear that he can feel them underneath his shirt.

He shivers. "Is that kosher with the natives?"

Loki laughs.

 

 

They don't exactly win the bird people’s war for them, but they helped with a few small things. Now that they can protect their homes, King is on a more even level from which to negotiate a ceasefire. Seeing Siler's excitement about reclaiming the lost farmland makes Tony remember Yinsen. Tony is playing Yinsen's part again, being the one who gives that chance, that reinvigoration of purpose.

Tony finishes the celebratory beverage that Siler had pressed into his hands and taps the container absently against his arm as he folds his arms tightly over his chest. "You know I'm not gonna go after Barnes, right?"

Loki is standing next to him watching the ripple of excitement filter through a mass of huge, feathered beings as Siler shares what he and Tony learned. "He took something from you," Loki reminds Tony. "I would not forgive him."

Tony sighs. "It might be different if it really was him. I knew, I always knew, even when he was letting me punch him in the face, that it wasn't really him. It just... threw me, learning it, and it felt so _good_ to have someone to take it out on.

But I knew." He sighs. "I'm ready to go back."

Loki doesn't say anything, just raises his hand to take Tony’s. Blue Tesseract fire engulfs them.

 

* * *

 

Earth  
_Stark Tower_

They're standing on the balcony outside Tony's penthouse. The day looks the same as when they left, but it can't be. "You can't manipulate time with that thing too, can you?" Tony asks as they walk inside.

Loki falters a step. "Not this one, no."

And wow, that is a topic that needs to be explored at a later time. "JARVIS, check on Bruce for me would you? And are Cap and Barnes decent?"

"Doctor Banner is with Miss Lewis in his private quarters. Captain Rogers and Sergeant Barnes are not in the building."

Tony halts. "What? Shit. Did he bust out?"

"Captain Rogers and Sergeant Barnes left via motorcycle, approximately forty minutes after you yourself departed."

"What the fuck?" Tony moves to pick up the Starkpad lying on the table. "Find them, JARVIS. Why would they leave? It was voluntary right? He didn't kidnap Steve or anything?"

"I believe Sergeant Barnes did not wish to presume upon your hospitality after the revelation of his past actions. Captain Rogers refused to let him depart alone. Agent Romanov saw them off."

Tony frowns. There is a light blinking on the screen, somewhere in Canada. "Well, I guess I _am_ going after him."

Loki laughs and goes into the spare room where he has a ring of runes carved into the floor. Tony presumes that Loki has stopped giving a shit about this issue.

 

 

Tony is flying along a line of trees somewhere in Quebec, when he swings back around a ridge and sees a lone motorcycle cruising down the road. He has about five seconds before they spot him- and even as he's zooming in to verify identity, Barnes hears him, turning to shoot a glared look in Tony's direction. Tony swears and puts on a burst of speed to circle around in front of them.

Steve isn't a runner by nature. He stops the bike and steps away from it. He plucks his shield from where it's settled on the front of the bike and holds it, ready, as he turns to where Tony is landing, placing himself between Tony and Barnes.

Tony presses a button and the helmet retracts, so that he can level a straight look at Steve. "Really? You think I came all this way to pick a fight? I could have shot you before you even heard me."

Steve grinds his jaw, but Barnes steps forward. He puts a restraining hand on Steve's shoulder then steps around him.  He meets Tony's eyes. "I'm sorry."

"Yeah, you said that already." Tony looks away and chews the inside of his cheek. "Look, I'm not okay with it. That's gonna take a while. If it ever happens. But you don't have to leave." He glances to Steve. Steve looks pretty shell-shocked and Tony remembers that he knew Howard, cared about him. It's not the same, but this is personal for him, too. "I'm not gonna make you come back or anything, but you don't have to run around thinking that I'm coming for you." He meets Barnes' eyes.

Barnes is looking back at him. His face is rather expressionless when compared with Steve, but there’s a tightening around his eyes. "I can't... fix it," he says finally, helplessly.

Tony closes his eyes, momentarily overwhelmed by the memory of the day he received the news. "Nothing can." He takes a deep breath and looks at Barnes. "God knows I've tried."

Barnes has lost the tension in his stance, and even Steve is standing there like he wants to hug rather than punch. "Well." Tony turns, puts the helmet back up. "Happy trails."

"Tony."

He stops before he flies away and turns back, letting the faceplate glare at Steve.

Steve steps forward.  "Thank you." He sounds so emotional that Tony just flies away without speaking.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soundtrack listing: "Joy to the World" was written by Hoyt Axton and made famous by the band Three Dog Night.
> 
> Notes:  
> \- Yinsen's "Well then, this is a very important week for you, isn't it?" is pretty much my favorite sassy motivational speech ever, in case you hadn't realized it yet.  
> \- I really wanted to use a real planet (I mean, a planet that someone else had really created... either in the MCU or borrowed from Stargate or something) for the place they go to in this chapter, but nothing I could remember fit what I wanted. So I made up a planet, inspired by the song "Dirty Paws" by the band Of Monsters and Men. It has a built in conflict and cast of characters ("The bees had declared a war / The sky wasn't big enough for them all / The birds, they got help from below / From Dirty Paws and the creatures of snow") so dropping Tony & Loki into the middle of it worked out. There are a couple of other little Easter eggs in the chapter having to do with the band.


	9. When the Rain Washes You Clean You'll Know

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony connects with old and new friends and they are tragically surprised by an alien visitor.

 

**Location:** Universe YOSLY, Designation: Delta  
New York City _  
4 years & 6 months pre-anomaly_

Tony's in his workshop when JARVIS pauses his work music.

"Sir, Captain Rogers asked me to notify you that he intends to return to the Tower shortly. Sergeant Barnes will be with him."

Tony frowns as he finally finds the broken gear and pulls it out of the flight assembly. "Like he'd be anywhere else. Did they get lonely after just, what, three months?"

"Three months, twenty-nine days, and seventeen hours since they departed, sir."

"What, no seconds?" JARVIS doesn't answer his last teasing jibe and Tony rolls his eyes. "Did he say what he wants?"

"I gather that they are returning against Sergeant Barnes' wishes, but that he has become injured in some way that Captain Rogers feels you can assist with."

Tony grunts. He can well imagine that Barnes would protest. And he's kind of annoyed that Steve just thinks he'll help them with whatever, even though he may have already sort of said he would, and he can't concentrate on his work anymore. He gets up and goes up to the penthouse. Loki's gone so Tony's not sure why he came up. But looking out over the city does clear his head a bit. He goes over to the glass and presses his hand against it. Was it just two and a half years ago that Loki threw him through this window?

He stands there for a long time and it takes him a little by surprise when JARVIS notifies him, "Captain Rogers and Sergeant Barnes have arrived."

"Did you figure out what's wrong with Barnes?"

"The injury would appear to be to his mechanical arm."

Tony's eyebrows shoot up. Well, that explains why Steve thought Tony would be interested in helping him fix it. "Direct them to the workshop." He turns to his elevator and he's there before them.

Steve pushes open the door, practically dragging Barnes behind him. "Tony. Thank you for-"

Tony waves him off. "I said you shouldn't be worried about coming back here. I meant it. What's up?"

Steve looks a little shifty. "Natasha's been feeding us the info on some suspected Hydra cells she's heard about." Tony had no idea Natasha was still in a position to have access to that kind of information; he's going to have to keep a better eye on her, not that it'll change anything. "Mostly low profile stuff, we're just double checking her leads. But there's been a few... scuffles. Anyway, Bucky's arm took some fire and it started shorting." He kind of glares at Barnes, so Tony suspects there is a massive understatement in that sentence somewhere.

Barnes is standing behind Steve, glowering at both of them. Tony's pretty sure he'd have his arms crossed but he currently lacks the dexterity in the left arm to perform the gesture. It's hanging in his sleeve at the moment, the two smallest fingers twitching periodically.

Tony takes a deep breath. "Come over here." He shoves things over until he has a clear space on the worktable and pulls up a stool which he pats to indicate Barnes should sit there. He pulls up another stool for himself and reaches up to angle the light source. "JARVIS I'm gonna need some scans. Hey, Dummy, did you hide my goggles?"

Barnes comes reluctantly and sits, resting his arm on the table. Tony gives him a look of exasperation that Barnes matches, but then Barnes huffs a breath and shrugs out of his jacket before stripping off his shirt. He's a little awkward, doing it mostly one handed, but as he automatically lifts the left hand to assist in the procedure and the wrist fails to turn, the fingers grasping wrongly and too tightly for the delicate material, Tony can see part of the problem. "You've lost some of the servomotors doing the fine balance control in the extremities."

Barnes nods tightly. He still hasn't said anything and he looks as uncomfortable as hell. Steve is hovering like he's worried they're going to be at each other's throats in moments.

Tony glares at Barnes. "You know I'm not doing you any favors, right? This is like fucking Disneyland for me." It's not much really, but Barnes nods again and actually relaxes enough that Tony realizes that some of his stiffness is pain, probably from whatever's fucking up the arm.

JARVIS displays the scan over the table and Tony turns the image until he gets the best view. "Hmm. Yeah, you've got something jammed here," he points, "what the hell were you doing, anyway? And you've got something severed here." He enlarges that area. "Wow, that is the most intricate... this thing is really half a century old? Okay, I'm impressed." He taps the table. "Let's see the real thing."

He waits for Barnes to extend the arm toward him before he adjusts his light source and leans over it.

The first problem is easy to fix. "Basically, you have garbage jammed in your wrist," Tony narrates as he narrows his eyes and peers down the length of the slender tool he manages to fit in underneath the interfering piece of metal and tap it experimentally. "That's preventing motion in the wrist and interfering with the sensors in the hand and fingers, in part. It's wedged in there pretty good. I repeat, what the hell were you two doing?" Steve looks shifty again, and Tony interrupts himself with, "Never mind, I don't care. I can try to force it out, which might bend or break some wiring that right now isn't busted, or," he raises an eyebrow at Barnes, "I can try flash freezing your arm. The less resilient metal should shatter, and that should take care of the issue."

Barnes' eyes flare and his jaw clenches in instant denial. Tony can feel Steve's hovering gain in intensity.

"Just the arm," Tony repeats. "In fact, probably just the wrist. However, that won't fix the other problem." He turns back to the scan, enlarging the image for a second look and then getting up to search through a drawer of servomotors. "I'm gonna have to open up the panel behind the elbow to replace some things. It's in the back of your elbow, so, pretty awkward." Tony glances over, then looks away because Barnes is being very still and it's slightly unnerving. "If you hold your arm up, I can do it with you sitting back or-"

"No," Steve denies. Tony stills and waits. Steve suggests, "If he leans forward, and puts his arm back, over the table?" Barnes looks slightly more lifelike at this suggestion.

"Sure," Tony says easily. They switch, Barnes leaning forward, pretty much lying on the table, his arm spread out awkwardly to the side and back slightly so that Tony can reach it. Steve slips in front of Barnes. He's holding Barnes' right hand tightly in his and his chest is pressed to Barnes's right shoulder. Barnes is breathing fast; his eyes are closed as he deliberately controls and slows his breathing.

Tony doesn't say anything and just gets to work, cutting broken wires and soldering replacement servos in place. The arm is really a nice piece of work. Sure he could make some improvements, but it's not bad for what it is. It kind of deserves a museum dedicated to it. He falters; a museum would probably include all of the things the arm had done in its existence, and Tony suddenly doesn't want to think about those things. He works quickly, and is rewarded by Barnes relaxing with a soft sigh. "It doesn't hurt anymore," Barnes says softly, almost wonderingly. His eyes open and he's looking up at Tony.

Tony fixes his eyes on his work and solders the last wire and closes the panel. He leans on Barnes' arm for a moment and, because he can't leave things alone, he says, "Did he know it was you?"

Barnes' eyes flare open, wide and tense, but his entire body is so still he might as well be the lifeless puppet that he was for so long, his strings just cut. He's staring at nothing and his lips form the word before he can put air behind it so Tony knows the answer before the "Yes" even touches the air.

Steve makes a sound of pain and hides his face against Barnes' neck. Barnes seems a little surprised. Tony watches him critically; Barnes isn't upset by the fact of Howard and Maria Stark's deaths so much as he is by the repercussions. But it's an honest reaction so Tony nods shortly. And his point with this wasn't to make _Steve_ feel bad, so he moves on. "Hey, Loki."

Loki melts out of the shadow behind Steve and Steve jumps a little. Barnes doesn't, so Tony figures Barnes knew when Loki checked in about twelve seconds ago. "Yes, dear?" Loki asks facetiously.

Tony rolls his eyes. "I need to flash freeze the garbage in Barnes' wrist. Interested in helping?"

Loki eyes him for a long moment. Tony worded the request carefully. Because magic could totally do that, and it has nothing to do with being an alien from an ice planet, right?

"My interest could be measured only with the most delicate equipment your laboratory could produce," Loki says, boredom in his voice. But he comes up behind where Tony has reclaimed his seat near Barnes' wrist and he leans on Tony's shoulders.

Steve is the one who's tense now. Barnes is somewhat wary but more so of Tony than Loki which Tony thinks is kind of hilarious. "I don't-" Steve begins, but Barnes cuts him off.

"It's okay, Steve." And to demonstrate he pushes the arm closer to Tony and Loki. He's watching Loki but he drops his eyes to meet Tony's gaze, almost immediately dropping again to look at the floor.

Loki make a distracted, pleased sound- because he seems to think Barnes should totally be walking on eggshells around Tony. Tony growls a little bit, but before he sorts _that_ out he has a project to finish. He picks up the wrist and angles it, inserting the probe again until the slender length of metal touches the intrusive fragment that Barnes has wedged in his wrist. "See it?" he murmurs to Loki.

Loki huffs deprecatingly and touches a finger to the other end of the probe; all his fingers are dark blue, but Tony's pretty sure no one else notices. The probe, and everything it's touching that isn't decades-old super-advanced-Hydra-technology instantly disintegrates.

Barnes makes a soft noise of surprise and lifts his arm, flexing his fingers. He grins, an actual warm expression, and Tony sees a little bit of that man he used to be in it. "Thanks."

Tony nods. "Don't mention it. Like for real, I have enough on my conscience as it is, don't need to be doing favors for _you_."

Barnes gets a shifty look, then seems to reach a decision and he shoots an amused glare at Tony. "Oh boo hoo, Stark, you sold bombs that blew up poor civilians. Let me wipe away the tears with my metal hand."

Tony leans back and laughs. "Goddamn, you are going to be fun to have around."

Steve is looking at them like he missed something.

Loki had stopped pretending to be bored and does what he does when he's _actually_ bored. "Fascinating," he says, and adds offhand, "Captain, Mister Barton said something about your vehicle being incorrectly parked. Not to worry, I believe he has handled the issue already."

Steve loves his bike almost like it's another human being, and he's out of Tony's workshop so quickly his outraged, "He better not _touch_ it," trails behind him, along with an amused Barnes.

Tony laughs as he's putting away his tools. Loki takes hold of his wrist and Tony looks up at him, the delightful warmth at the base of his spine spreading to fill him. "You have a reason for wanting me to yourself?" Tony says innocently.

Loki smirks, the expression curling over his face. "None at all," he murmurs. "Though I can find a use for your hands if you've quite finished."

Tony leans into him. "Finished? Never."

 

JARVIS politely waits until Loki's done with him to announce, "Sir, Ms Potts is in her office. She has several issues that require your attention and would like you to meet her at your earliest convenience."

Tony sighs and leans back against Loki, tilting his head back to softly kiss Loki's jaw. "Can't I even afterglow for a minute, J?"

Loki laughs at him, and traces a trail of ice up Tony's spine that has him shooting to his feet with a yelp at the unexpectedness of it. "Go," Loki says, his voice low with humor. "See to your kingdom." Loki reaches out to seize him by the back of the head and pull him in for another kiss, then he vanishes in a ripple of stars and blue fire.

Tony shakes his head and starts rooting around for his pants. He's pretty sure they're under the table somewhere.

He doesn't find his jeans under the table, but thankfully JARVIS knows him well enough to have some spare trousers kept in the closet.

So, Tony's in the elevator, on his way down to meet with Pepper, when the elevator stops five floors short of its destination, and a man and a woman get on.

Tony narrows his eyes. It's not _actually_ a private elevator, it's just that JARVIS usually fast tracks him wherever he's going. He wonders if the AI just has it in for him today, when the man turns to look at Tony and Tony realizes that he _knows_ this asshole.

"Fury." And it is Nick fucking Fury, standing in his elevator, what the hell? He'd looked like someone else a moment ago, Tony's pretty sure. "I was really hoping I wouldn't have to see you, ever again," Tony says in greeting. "And, JARVIS, how the hell did he get in here?"

Fury smirks. "You're not the only one with tricks. Or friends with... abilities." And he holds out a hand to the woman standing behind him. She shifts her gaze to Tony, and slowly her nondescript Mediterranean complexion fades into something a little too pink to call fully human, her eyes green and glowing.

"We need to talk, Stark," Fury is saying. "And I'd rather you came down to my office for it."

"What the _fuck_ ," is about all Tony gets out, when the woman raises her hand, and everything around them warps and vanishes.

 

They are in a dimly lit, cluttered room, the open space dominated by a table with a single chair on either side. "Fury!" Tony hisses, jerking away from the other man, and from his pink, teleporting companion.

Fury takes the farther of the two seats at the table and leans back, holding up his hands in a gesture of openness. "Wanted to make sure we don't have any ears on this conversation." The woman with the pink skin moves to stand in the shadows along the back of the room. Otherwise, they appear to be alone, but Tony can see at least one camera in the corner of the room near the ceiling.

"Yeah, cause we're so much more alone here than we were in my elevator." Tony slumps in the other chair and rubs his wrists, taking time to glower at Fury. "I'd love to know what kind of ‘talk' you _thought_ we were going to be having. The only words I have to say to you don't lend themselves well to conversation." Tony shifts his glare to the pink woman.

"Not even if I can give you the heads up on someone who's got it in for your boyfriend?" Fury sounds legitimately hurt that Tony doesn't consider this an open exchange.

Tony's gaze shifts back to Fury and grows calculating. "If the next words out of your mouth are 'Clint Barton,' then you're the one who's running a bit behind."

Fury smiles in that infuriating way he has. "I'm talking about someone who has the ability to actually make your pet god sit up and take notice."

Tony doesn't think Fury really understands just how powerful Loki is, and there's no way SHIELD has intel on Thanos. But Tony plays like he's concerned. He's got a few minutes, in any case. "Okay, I'll bite. Who's gunning for him?"

Fury shakes his head. "A conversation goes both ways," he reminds Tony. "I need some information as well. You had a visit from an old friend this morning. And he brought back one of his friends- but of course, it's not the first time this particular individual has dropped by your Tower. My superiors would love to know more about him."

Tony laughs. "Fuck you," he offers. He kind of wants to taunt Fury about some other things he's got in his Tower, like Loki's scepter, but it's probably better he doesn't hand out the information that he has it now.

"We're just trying to keep tabs on a potentially dangerous player." Fury narrows his eye. "You can never tell, when something you thought you'd ended turns out to be eating you from the inside." Tony wouldn't say those words really fit the situation, but before he can think about it Fury's moved on. "Wondering if you've read his files, to welcome him so wholeheartedly."

Tony frowns. He wants to tell Fury he _fucking knows_ , and he also wants to yell and demand what _Fury_ knows about it, but he really should try to play this more carefully. "You know I keep people around for my own reasons and I don't give a shit what you think." He stands. "This conversation was old the last two times we had it, Nick."

Fury eyes him. "You're free to leave anytime you want, Stark. I thought we were having a mutual exchange of information."

"Right," Tony drawls. "So let's start with your half of that. Who's after Loki?"

Fury raises a hand. "Let's deal with people from _this_ planet first."

Tony scoffs and looks significantly at the pink woman.

She stares back at him and says flatly, "I'm from Miami, dude."

 Fury pulls the focus back to him. "What info do you have on the Winter Soldier?"

"Winter Soldier... oh you mean the former Hydra assassin? Well," Tony glares right back at Fury. "He plays a mean hand of Gin."

Fury sits and watches him for a few moments. Tony knows it's to make him squirm, but he can't help shifting his weight. "What aren't you saying?" Fury says finally.

"What, SHIELD think's I'm holding out on them? I am shocked." This _was_ almost funny, but Tony's getting annoyed. He paces away from the table. "You get nothing more from me until I get something back."

Fury nods and stands as well. "I'm going to give you a minute to think about this, and then we're going to talk about it again."

Tony tries the door but isn't surprised when it doesn't open. "I'll call my lawyer."

"Five minutes," Fury says. "Then we'll talk again, and then you can go. It'll be like you were never here."

Tony glares at him, but Fury continues to be unfazed. He leaves by a door on the other side of the room; his pink-skinned sidekick vanishes in what Tony would assume is the same way she brought them to this place, and Tony is alone.  Or Fury wants him to think he's alone. Tony huffs out a breath and wanders the circumference of the room. It's an odd room, for a SHIELD interrogation room, and seems both disorderly and neglected. Tony sees a few interesting things that seem obviously left out for the purpose of being tempting: a prototype laser pistol is sitting with some other junk on a table against the wall; a wall panel in the corner is partially detached, with wires sticking out from the open space beyond; an open socket near the door is the perfect size to stick the chair leg into. He laughs under his breath, stands on the table, picks up the chair he was sitting on earlier, and uses it to smash the light fixture.

In the ensuing darkness, Tony sets the chair on the table and climbs up into the sub-ceiling. When Clint used to work for him they spent a few hours going over the sub-ceilings in Stark Tower and how to prevent people from taking advantage of the usually under-guarded access point. Clint shared a few tidbits about the SHIELD buildings he had worked in. Tony easily bypasses the first laser grid he runs across, and crawls his way to a hub room. It probably won't take the agents long to find him; they know where he started from and he has a limited number of options as far as destinations. He needs to work fast and hope that no one still with SHIELD knows these paths like Clint. Turning a corner, Tony almost runs smack into someone else.

The face is pure blackness, and the eyes are glowing slits. Tony almost shouts in surprise but manages to remain silent. His new companion reaches out with clawed hands to grasp Tony's shirt. "Out of my way," he says. Okay, his new friend is definitely a man, and Tony can hear some sort of accent. And this guy's apparently not with SHIELD.

"Hey, I'm just trying to get out of here," Tony says. "No one should stay in a SHIELD building longer than they have to."

His companion's glowing eyes narrow slightly. "Indeed."

Time is pressing, but Tony can't help himself. "I don't suppose I could borrow one of your gauntlets? That is vibranium, right? I mean, I'm really trying to not have a science orgasm, right here in the ceiling, but that is definitely in the top five most awesome things I've seen today, and when you've had the day I've had that's saying something."

The stranger is watching him, but they've wasted too much time and they've been found. Tony can hear the shouting start beneath them, and any minute agents are going to start breaking away the sub-ceiling and they're going to come falling down into that mess of vipers. "'Vipers' is probably giving them too much credit," Tony muses under his breath. "Aren't king snakes the ones that look poisonous but aren't?"

"Turn left," his strange companion says, and Tony doesn't argue. He follows the other man, moving quickly, until they reach a control room. They come tumbling out of the sub-ceiling into a closet of a room tucked behind a stairwell. There's enough light that Tony can finally see his companion a bit better. The unrelenting blackness of his face is a mask; it has ears like a cat, and glowing screens over the eyes that Tony has a feeling function somewhat like his suit, taking spectrum readings and other fun stuff. Tony can feel his fingers itching. "What kind of spectrum analysis do you get with those goggle lenses? Is it just sound spectrum from the vibranium, or- ooh, I bet you read infrared, too. _That_ would be useful for crawling around in the dark."

"This is hardly the place for such a discussion." The masked man sounds amused, but he's also right.

Tony waves a hand. "Right, right, getting out of here." He's already looking around the room, seeing what there is available.

The masked man folds his arms over his chest. "I had an exit planned, but that window is now closed. There are not many ways out of a SHIELD facility undetected." His tone is not accusatory, but rather observational.

"I think 'undetected' is your sticking point," Tony muses. He holds up his wrist. "I've got a suit on call." Tony flicks his wrist and the gauntlet forms over his hand; he examines the room again by the slightly warmer light of repulsor glow. "If I can get you out of here, you know, 'undetected' and all, can I take a look at your tech?"

The man watches him for a long moment. "Do it, and we shall see," he allows.

Tony grins. "Okay," he rambles, "we are kind of on a time crunch and I'm assuming your cat getup doesn't allow for air propulsion?" He glances at his companion but barely pauses for breath. "Which is one reason why I never went with an animal theme. JARVIS thinks it's all ego, but seriously, an animal persona is severely limiting and it takes a lot of effort to conform to a theme like that, too much effort to too little purpose. But," Tony breathes again, "I think I can pull an ace that will get you your undetected exit and leave us with no more problems." He glances around the tight room. "Loki, you there?"

There is silence for a long moment, before Loki's smooth voice answers. "Do you think I follow you everywhere?" He sounds put upon.

"No." Tony can't help it, he smiles. "But I do hope you're paying attention when I get abducted by secret government agencies."

The air flickers and Loki materializes. Tesseract energy is glowing in his eyes, and the masked man inhales sharply. Loki looks at the other man. "Who is this?"

"My new friend," Tony says. "We haven't gotten around to names, but he has some awesome tech that I'm really hoping he made himself."

"Fine." Loki doesn't really have to make a gesture to do magic- as he explained to Tony once, it just helps focus the energy- and he doesn't this time. Tony can't tell if he's truly annoyed, or just putting on a show with his lack of show. Regardless, they are, against a backdrop of stars, transported back to the penthouse in an instant.

Tony's new friend looks around. He doesn't seem impressed by the location but he fixes Loki with a sharp eye. "It appears we could make an exchange of information," he says.

Tony glances at Loki who is eyeing the stranger in a decidedly unfriendly manner. "That's not something I can promise," he hedges.

The stranger nods. He moves to the window and almost before Tony can comprehend what he's doing, he opens it, runs out onto the balcony, and jumps off.

Tony swears and runs after him, but when he looks over the edge the stranger is gone. "Son of a bitch," he mutters.

He returns to find his lover frowning. "What?" he asks.

Loki crosses his arms and turns away in a rare show of pique. Tony moves across the room to stand beside him; he reaches out but doesn't quite touch Loki. "What is it?"

Loki glares at him. "You expected me to save you."

"Well," Tony drawls, "I was hoping you'd do more than laugh at my stupidity." Loki huffs. Tony is scrolling through data, trying to figure out what he did wrong. Usually when they fight Tony is the one who's angry. Loki pulls everything in and buries it deep, even with Tony, and Tony has a surprising lack of resources to fall back on to try to understand how to deal with a Loki who is actually pissed about something. "Just tell me what I did," Tony says. He reaches for Loki again and curls his fingers around Loki's wrist. He hopes the gesture will be understood, because his throat is closing up.

Loki looks at him and his expression softens. "You are intelligent, Tony. It's why I..." He shakes his head. "You can figure out answers to your own problems. You are... fragilely human, but I know that the moment an obstacle presents itself which your mind and resources cannot overcome it will be a truly momentous day." His eyes are focused on Tony's face and his features go slack for a moment, as if he is seeing that day now. His voice hardens. "I can protect you from many things, but I cannot if you start getting stupid. If you begin to rely on my powers to save you, you will make a mistake that will get you killed and I will not be quick enough."

"Hey." Tony relaxes and leans in to rest his head on Loki's shoulder. "I had a plan. I just didn't expect to meet a guy that interesting in a backroom at SHIELD of all places." Loki huffs again. Tony's voice softens. "I still could have gotten us out, but it was easier to just see if you were checking on me." He lets his fingers trail along the skin of Loki's arm. "And maybe I was showing off a little."

Loki stills. "Showing off." There is no inflection to the words.

Tony grins, forehead still leaned against Loki's shoulder. "My boyfriend can totally break into SHIELD with no problems, no prep work, and no residual presence. Fuck yeah I'm showing off." He sobers. "You talk about my mind and my resources; well, I count you as part of my resources. I don't _rely_ on them, but I try to keep myself aware of what your powers can do, in case there is a situation in which that's a tool I need."

Loki nods. His stance relaxes and he reaches to cup Tony's cheek in his hand. "I am... concerned for you, more than is good for me," he admits.

Tony's grin shifts into a smile. He leans up to kiss Loki. "Aww, I love you, too, babe." The words are offered offhand, but he means them and his heart is closing his throat again with the truth of them. Loki's hand is on his cheek and his eyes peer into Tony's. His face is soft, in a way Tony rarely sees him, and he smiles a _real_ smile, not the sardonic, angry-with-life quirk of lips that he usually shows even to Tony. He kisses Tony again and doesn't say anything. Tony can feel his heart easing out of his throat and he buries his face against Loki, drawing in a deep breath full of spice and stardust.

 

Tony _does_ call his lawyer, like he’d promised Fury, but apparently SHIELD has no record of him being at _any_ of their bases within the last two and a half years. They have no pink-skinned employees from Miami. Also, apparently Nick Fury is no longer Director; one Jasper Sitwell is "acting director," and when Tony gives an earful to Alexander Pierce he gets absolutely no concrete answers to any questions he asks concerning Fury. Pierce does ask him some interesting questions in return about potential arson; apparently an unexpected fire destroyed an entire bank of backup computers at the location where Fury took him, though of course Pierce won’t admit to anything outright. Tony’s pretty sure his new vibranium-clawed friend was behind it, but he also wonders about Fury and where he fits into all this anyway.

 

 

It's been almost two months since the SHIELD debacle, and Tony is at another SI event. He's joking with Bruce and Darcy- and Loki as his date again- when Pepper introduces him to the King of Wakanda.

"He's just visiting New York for a few days," Pepper says. "Stark Industries is interested in contracting some vibranium for use in our well drilling project that's centered in Africa, and King T'Challa wanted to meet you, Tony."

"Indeed," the aristocratic, dark-skinned man says as his sharp, intelligent gaze settles on Tony in an evaluative manner. "I wished to meet the mind behind the company's many innovative ideas."

Tony recognizes that voice. "Son of a bitch," he says. Pepper looks scandalized; T'Challa has a politician's face. Loki, at Tony's side in one of his many disguises as arm candy, somehow manages to step on Tony's foot with the heel of his shoe without seeming to move at all.

Tony clears his throat and ignores both Loki and Pepper, because sometimes the best way to get information is to go for the throat. "So, T'Challa, you wouldn't happen to know anyone who wears a black mask and has vibranium claws?"

T'Challa looks politely interested. "That description sounds very much like the Black Panther. He is a well-known figure in Wakanda, always looking out for the country's interests. As you may not be aware, there are many powers which are allied against Wakanda. Have you met him?"

"No," Tony says. He smiles apologetically at Pepper. He pulls Loki's hand under his arm and squeezes his fingers. "I just saw something on the news and it made me wonder. Sorry, Your Majesty."

"No offence is taken." T'Challa inclines his head, and there is a shrewd and penetrative edge to his gaze as his eyes remain on Tony's.

"Maybe when you have more time in our country we could get together and talk about some of my ideas," Tony offers. "Or, you know, any ideas you might have."

T'Challa's lip curls in what Tony thinks is actually a smile. "That would be... an interesting opportunity."

 

Stark Industries ends up getting only about one quarter of the vibranium they were hoping to get from Wakanda, for more than they would have liked to pay, and with the stipulation that Wakandan agents would oversee the installation of the vibranium drill heads. Pepper calls Tony to complain about how shrewd a businessman T'Challa is; Tony refrains from suggesting they have Loki offer to trade information when it comes to their contracts with Wakanda. He and Pepper have an actual conversation for the first time in a while, and it feels nice. Tony starts to get suspicious, because when things are going well is when things tend to go horribly wrong for him.

 

But things don't go horribly wrong, at least not as far as Tony notices. T'Challa's friendship opens some possibilities and Tony puts some money into refurbishing the Moroccan and South African branches of SI. Pepper probably finds the amount of time he suddenly spends popping- flying and occasionally Tesseract-porting- overseas suspicious, but she doesn't say anything. Tony invites T'Challa over for an exchange of knowledge and gadgetry, thought at first he thinks the main reason T'Challa comes is that he's interested in what Loki can do.

Tony's also been working on his teleportation armor. Bruce helped him design the actual teleporter, but Tony's having trouble making the components as streamlined as he wants them to be to integrate with the armor and still stand up to the punishment of Mach 5 winds. T'Challa's input, and a few generous scraps of vibranium, help him figure out the issue.

All in all, things are pretty good.

 

 

SHIELD is getting a bit light on Avengers. Steve's broken all ties. Tony’s not entirely sure where Natasha stands but she tells him the only person she takes orders from is Fury, and if Fury doesn’t officially work at SHIELD then... Carol Danvers' Ms Marvel is promoted to Captain Marvel and Sitwell sets her up with a new team. Tony learns about this from Ororo. Her previous teammate Scott is apparently having a rather tempestuous fling with Danvers, but the important thing is that the Kree are coming.

"Carol Danvers got her powers when her DNA merged with that of an undercover alien spy as he attempted to shield her from a radiation leak," Steve tells them. He's sitting at the new table in the Level Five meeting room and the whole team is there. Their team has only grown, and Tony feels a stab of pride. He did this. Loki is behind him; Bruce and Darcy are sitting across from where Steve has his hand firmly on Barnes', their fingers interlaced. Ororo, Thor, Natasha, Clint, Betsy, Kurt, Remy, and Sean are sitting or standing around and watching as JARVIS shows what clips they have of Danvers and of the alien. "Mar Vell is from a race called the Kree. He didn't tell us much, but they appear to be extremely warlike, and interested in Earth." Steve turns to Thor, but Thor looks at Loki.

Loki sighs. "The Kree are indeed extremely warlike, and that is an understatement. Their entire culture knows nothing but conquest and they have been expanding their empire for longer than this planet has supported life. Let us say that Asgard glorifies war. You know how Thor fights." Thor grins, and most of those around the room either grin in response or roll their eyes. When he continues, Loki's voice contains not the slightest bit of humor. "This is because Asgard places importance on personal honor and battle prowess. Imagine an army of warriors with similar physical strength who do not care about personal survival. When the Kree fight they are like a machine, soldiers in ranks laying down their lives without thought."

"Yikes," Tony murmurs. He leans back in his seat, pressed against Loki standing right behind him. "So, what's the play?"

"Midgard lies in an advantageous place as a waypoint between the Kree Empire and the Skrull Empire, with whom the Kree have long been at war. It will take much to incite them to leave you in peace."

Steve nods. "Mar Vell mentioned that as well." He looks calm and determined, like they didn't just pick a fight with an alien _empire_ simply by existing. "He said they would be sending a representative to evaluate the planet, for either inclusion in the empire- as slaves by the way- or elimination."

"Well, they're a cheerful lot, aren't they?" Sean mutters, and Betsy laughs darkly.

Ororo is watching the footage of the alien fighting off a sentry sent by his people. "I do not wish to be the one to say it, but it would be advantageous to present a united front to this empire. We should reach out to Danvers, and SHIELD."

"Fuck no," Tony denies immediately. "At least to SHIELD. Danvers herself is okay. For military."

"I agree," Natasha says. "SHIELD has their own problems. " She hesitates, but adds, "Fury is concerned that they’ve been infiltrated by Hydra." There are expressions of disbelief around the room, and Natasha continues grimly, "I’m not supposed to have told you that. But, if we reach out to anyone in SHIELD other than Danvers we need to be absolutely certain of the leanings of whomever we approach."

"SHIELD doesn't matter," Tony muses. "And it’s not because I always say that." He turns to Ororo. "We only need Danvers, and only for when this guy shows up, right? We can let her take point, just say we're there to back her up. It can't be that hard to tell an alien to take his army and fuck off and make it look like the whole planet agrees."

"Unless she chooses to respond differently," Loki observes.

Natasha actually laughs. "You obviously don't know Carol Danvers. If she's given an opportunity to punch someone in the face, it's going to happen. And that was before she traded blood samples with a race of alien warlords."

Thor is nodding fondly. "I remember the Lady Marvel as a fierce warrior." Loki rolls his eyes but Thor seems pleased at this response.

"Alright," Steve says decisively. "We'll make an overture to Captain Danvers, expressing our willingness to back her up at this meeting, whenever it happens." Everyone nods. It's only after he speaks that Steve remembers, and his eyes dart to Tony in apology.

Tony shrugs and grins back. Truthfully, he hasn't been an Avenger under the command of Captain America in so long he hadn't even realized that Steve was putting on his Captain voice, hadn't even considered the words as applying to him and his team. Bruce raises an eyebrow at him from the other side of the table and smirks sardonically.

"Sounds like a plan," Tony says in agreement. He stands, and it's _his_ gesture that breaks up the meeting. A part of him relishes in that; because leadership rests where people follow. Part of him resents that Steve thinks he can just walk in here and be in charge when Tony was the one who built this team. A larger part of him knows that Steve is a more capable tactical commander. And Tony will challenge him on any orders he doesn't agree with, in any case.

 

* * *

  
New York  
_76 days later_

When the aliens do show up, it's more of a two-in-the-morning, oh-shit-forgot-to-set-the-alarm, are-you-fucking-kidding-me, kind of event rather than feeling like something they were expecting.

"Sir, Captain Danvers is calling," JARVIS says, unperturbed even at 3:48 AM.

He and Loki are just back from a trip to Morocco; _just_ back, as in he’s only just started falling asleep. Tony growls something uncomplimentary and burrows deeper into his bed, hiding his face between a pillow and Loki's shoulder.

"Sir, this would appear to be quite imperative."

Loki sits up. "Open the call, JARVIS."

Tony growls again but gives in and sits up as well, shaking himself.

"Stark?" Danvers’ voice is clipped and harsh and the tone wakes Tony up like a splash of cold water. "They're here."

Tony rubs his face. "Carol, I’m awake. I’m going to need about three more hours of sleep if you want more than that. Who's here?"

"It's the Kree, unless you have some other friends from out of town that you're expecting. They have a ship in orbit and some sort of smaller craft descending through the atmosphere, moving toward New York City and coming in fast over the water."

"Copy." Tony's out of bed, pulling clothing toward himself, the wall opening up behind him to reveal the Mark XVI. "JARVIS-" he begins.

"I have taken the liberty of informing all Avengers, sir," JARVIS says. "Banshee and Nightcrawler are on assignment and I have been unable to reach them. Psylocke and Gambit are preparing the Westchester contingent. Psylocke will be ready for Loki in approximately 1.73 minutes."

Tony pulls Loki in for a kiss. "For luck," he says with a grin. Loki's eyes flash with desire, and then he is gone in a ripple of Tesseract fire.

Tony pulls on his helmet. "Steve? You there?"

It's actually Barnes' voice that answers. "Cap and Doctor Banner are readying the quinjet." There is a half second pause before he continues, "Hawkeye and Black Widow have joined us. Status?"

"Loki is gone. I'm ready to head out." JARVIS beeps and Tony relays to Barnes, "JARVIS says Thor and Storm are already on site."

"Copy. We're ready for take-off. See you there. Quinjet out."

Tony takes off as well, and he can see the Quinjet below him, as the side of the building opens to send it flying out into the night. He turns in the air and heads upstate.

They had suspected the Kree would target either New York or Washington as centers of power. It had been Tony's idea, though tossed out half as a joke since things like that never seemed to work, to try to lure the envoy to somewhere less populated. Psylocke would use the X-Men's Cerebro to create the impression of a powerful mind, aided by Loki's magic. If the Kree wanted to talk to the man in charge... well, they were going to be disappointed when they ended up with Elisabeth Braddock instead, because she was the type to take no shit.

 

Tony is flying over the Xavier Estate in Westchester within moments. He can see the quinjet landing below him, and, further away but closing fast, their quarry.

"Heads up guys, alien vessel coming our way. It's a small craft, probably no more than," he guesses, "a dozen guys." He watches it for a moment and though it's more a gut feeling than a fact he adds, "They look like they know where they're going." That's not really it. "I mean, they look like they know what they're headed into."

"Think we have another spy?" Danvers' voice is tense.

"No. Maybe." Tony watches as the spacecraft makes landfall. "Maybe they just have amazing long distance scanners." And wouldn't he love to get his hands on that tech? "Maybe they just think this is going to be a cakewalk."

"We'll just have to dissuade them of that notion." Danvers _sounds_ ready, voice far calmer than it had been when she had called him barely half an hour ago, and she says, "We're ready. Fall in, Iron Man." Tony takes his place in the line of Avengers and SHIELD agents spread out behind Captain Marvel as she steps forward, arms folded.

The spacecraft comes over the line of trees and settles to the ground. There is something familiar about the lines of it; whatever it is dances away from Tony’s attempts to identify it, but it stays niggling at the back of his mind. Tony realizes suddenly that Loki is standing beside him, when Loki was inside the mansion with Betsy not a moment ago, and he is watching the spacecraft, his expression tight and his eyes hard and flat.

"This is not what you think," Loki says. "And for that I am sorry. The foe you expected would have been easier prey than the one which stands before you now."

Tony feels something cold seize his spine but, despite the company he's keeping, he's pretty sure it's a metaphorical paralysis. Danvers and Steve heard Loki's words and they have turned to him, the looks on their faces probably mirroring Tony's in sheer dread. Thor is watching Loki intently. "What do you mean?" Tony says, but Loki shakes his head and motions to the craft.

The door has opened and two figures step out of the craft: a tall, dark-skinned man with unnaturally brilliant blue eyes, and a blue-skinned woman. Both are armed and seem quite comfortable with it.

Even from across the clearing, the man's eyes fix irrevocably on Loki. "I have pursued you long, Liesmith." He grins, a broad and eager baring of teeth. "But I have found you at last."

"Finally." The woman unsheathes a blade. "I was getting bored." She regards the arrayed Avengers before her. She makes an almost careless gesture behind her and another spacecraft appears, clone to the first one, slipping down through the sky.

Loki's eyes are upon the pair and his old, familiar, feral smile spreads over his face. "Korath the Pursuer, I believe. Allied with Thanos now, are you? And Nebula, how pleasant to see you again." There is a slight tightening at the corner of his mouth. "You should have stayed, licking scraps at Thanos' feet, rather than come for me."

Nebula smirks. She makes another gesture behind her at the second craft and it fires. The blast hits the ground right where Loki was standing.

Tony finds himself airborne almost before he can think about it, repulsors focused on Nebula. She dodges around his blasts almost like a dance, until an arrow catches her in the shoulder, spinning her around and throwing her off balance. Tony blasts her again; it hits her this time but she seems more deeply irritated than anywhere close to knocked out of the fight. Hulk's fists connecting with her face help her to reevaluate that feeling.

Tony takes a moment to figuratively step back and check the battlefield. The second craft has landed, spewing forth a whole battalion of alien foot soldiers. If these aren't the Kree and they came here from Thanos to fetch back Loki, then Tony wonders what they brought the cannon fodder for- though these alien soldiers are doing a decent job of keeping the Avengers busy. Captain America, Black Widow, and Gambit are in the middle of everything; Hawkeye and Barnes are playing their own strengths and aliens are dropping abruptly all over the battlefield as the snipers draw targets. Thor has closed with Korath, a look approaching glee on his face as he brings his hammer hurtling down toward his opponent.

Tony's flying around, adding in a repulsor blast where it looks needed, and mostly he's _looking_ but he doesn't see Loki. Until he does- in a flash of Tesseract light Loki appears right behind Korath and sinks a knife in the alien's back. Thor looks annoyed; Tony takes his first deep breath in a while.

Psylocke has run up from the mansion and she is standing to the side with Storm, arguing with Captain Marvel, Cyclops, and Mockingbird. Tony adds a few more repulsors to the mayhem as he has JARVIS open a line to Storm. "Ladies, you having a nice chat?"

Storm sounds absolutely furious, and Tony thinks the gathering clouds obscuring the predawn light may not be entirely Thor's fault. "Captain Danvers has declined to assist us in this battle," Storm says, her words clipped.

"What the fuck?"

"These aren't the Kree," Danvers’ voice comes over the comms. "Whoever these people are, they are only here for Loki, they have no interest in Earth." She doesn’t sound happy, but says with determination, "I have orders."

Tony actually stops cold for a moment, the fury that Storm is apparently already feeling washing up through him. "Get the fuck lost Danvers, or I'm going to blast you so hard it won't matter what SHIELD's policies are."

Storm rises into the air and lightning is striking all around the battlefield. Some of the foot soldiers are making their way across the estate grounds toward Xavier's mansion; Psylocke runs to hold the line there with Gambit and Cyclops. There are children in that mansion, and this was not the scenario Tony had in mind when he suggested this plan. He takes one flank and cuts off the aliens who were trying to sneak around the line; Storm has the other flank.

Cap and Widow are holding the other line on the opposite end of the clearing, and have been joined by Hawkeye and Barnes. The four of them fighting is something that almost makes Tony want to stop and watch it's like a deadly machine. They are cutting a swath toward where the spacecraft landed.

Tony checks back with Hulk to find that Nebula is wilier than he gave her credit for. She has traded off with Korath and is keeping Thor and Loki both busy with her spinning blades. Korath isn't really interested in Hulk, but he doesn't go down when Hulk smashes him. Of course, Korath's own attacks are just pissing Hulk off even more which makes the conclusion seem inevitable to Tony. He shoots a net of small missiles at Nebula, but she catches most of the blast against her artificial arm and shrugs it off. She's bleeding from a dozen different places, but her face is like a cold and intent version of Thor's- she is enjoying this rather than feeling any pain. The three of them are moving too quickly for Tony to interfere much.

A third craft appears over the tree line and lands beside the other two and Tony thinks someone needs to cut this off at the source. He remembers the main ship that Danvers had mentioned and has JARVIS pull SHIELD's satellite data. This last landing craft is the closest to Cap's team, and Widow sneaks up near the door to ambush whoever comes out. Tony hovers, ready to drive whatever appears directly into Widow's arms with a barrage of repulsors.

"Don't!" Loki yells. He appears before the new craft and his expression is grim. "This one is my opponent," he says, and the door opens to reveal a helmeted figure, shrouded by a long cloak; the way it moves is decidedly inhuman, in a way that’s sharper than the foot soldiers have been.

It reaches a six-fingered hand toward Loki and speaks, though Tony only hears a strange buzzing. Loki is looking at the thing with an intensity that is disturbing, and Tony wonders if it's because he knows Loki as well as he does that he's ready for the next move. Or maybe it's just because he's thinking the same thing that he notices the flicker of power as Loki pulls Tesseract energy into himself in preparation. Loki tackles this newest alien, both of them tumbling back into the spacecraft, and then the craft begins to flicker, vanishing from where it rests on the grass.

Tony flew into the open mouth of the craft the moment before it vanished, titanium covered fingers gripping the hull tightly as they are transported through space by the power of the Tesseract. It's different than the times that Loki has transported him before, barring the tripping-the-World-Tree jaunt they took to that other planet, and Tony wonders if that is why he feels like he can tell they are no longer on Earth.

The HUD flickers for a moment before JARVIS establishes a satellite connection, and Tony breathes a deep breath because they're still close enough for satellites, and JARVIS is cross referencing their current position with the SHIELD data.

When the HUD comes back up, Tony can see the strange other alien reaching for Loki. Loki looks stripped, energy spent from the battle and now stretched thin as a membrane by the enormity of transporting something the size of the landing craft, and he is screaming in both rage and pain as the other alien's fingers scramble over his skin. Tony raises his right hand and blasts the other alien with his repulsor.

The damage is measurable but, overall, insignificant. However, Tony appears to have alerted Loki and this Other to the fact that they have company. The helmeted face turns toward him and the Other bares harsh, alien jaws at Tony; its teeth look covered in blood.

"I'm not sure if you're trying to take a bite out of me or trying to open an interspecies dialogue," Tony muses through the suit's speakers. "Either way, I have pretty much one response at the moment." He charges the repulsor again, and brings up his other hand to let the alien feel both blasts.

"Tony," he hears Loki say. The god's voice is little more than a hiss but even as Tony turns to look at him, Loki is moving. He is gripping one of his daggers in one hand and he seizes the Other with his other hand. As soon as they touch, Loki hisses, his face a rictus of pain, but his hand moves like the speed of light and he is stabbing the knife down into the alien over, and over again. The Other screams, a rising sound that soon passes out of the audible spectrum and becomes only an omnipresent throbbing in the air. This Other is scratching at Loki, trying to push him away, but it is not stronger.

It seems a long time before Loki drags himself from the creature's still corpse, but it's really only been a matter of minutes. Tony steps to Loki's shoulder; he doesn't reach out to touch, but the faceplate comes up and he just stands.

"You should not have come," Loki says after a moment. He turns to Tony and there is almost an emotion that looks like loss in his eyes. "I cannot take you back and stop them. I have not the control for both." His searching look says which of the two he would choose; he knows enough to know that Tony won't put up with it but he's considering it anyway.

Tony grins. "Don't worry about it. First, I'm assuming this is the mothership?" He turns his full attention to the ship which the smaller craft Loki transported has appeared inside of. There are a few aliens walking around; mostly they are ignoring everything, but a group is starting to form and is waving limbs in the direction of Tony and Loki's craft.

Loki nods tiredly. "If we destroy it, it will cut off the troops remaining on the ground."

Tony is grinning like a lunatic. "You magnificent bastard, I think I read your book," he murmurs, eyes scanning the controls of the craft. He pushes a button and pulls back on the driving yoke. "Anything highly explosive in this hanger?" Loki is at his side. He points to the vehicle next to theirs and Tony directs the sluggish steering in that direction. "Will that be enough?"

"It will be," Loki says. There is a distracted quality to his voice and his hands are glowing, and Tony figures he's doing something magical to amplify or direct the explosion, which kind of thrills him because as much as he's studied Loki and Loki's techniques and energy readings he still can't quantify exactly how magic works. Tony pushes a bunch of important looking levers until their readouts turn a striking yellow-green color and an alarm starts buzzing sharply. The craft is slowly accelerating in its curved course toward the other vehicle. Tony can see some of the aliens outside running around in panic.

Loki moves beside him, his fingers resting on Tony's shoulder and Tony wonders that he can feel the weight of them even through the suit. Loki's entire posture is exhausted, tense, and unhappy and he says, "Tony," like he knows that Tony knows better and is doing this on purpose.

Tony really wants to kiss him, but there isn't time. He flips the faceplate down. "JARVIS, calculating for Westchester?"

"Almost finished, sir."

Their vessel hits the point of no return in its arc of motion and begins to accelerate at a greatly increased rate. "JARVIS!" Tony releases the yoke and tackles Loki like a football player. "Engage NOW!"

And instead of hitting the strange metal deck as the ship explodes around them, they hit wet grass and mud, the Mark XVI's teleporter working like a charm. Except that Tony can't breathe. Loki is under him, gasping for air, and Tony rolls to the side, coughing. He pulls off his helmet, dropping it to the ground as he gasps as well. That doesn't last long because Loki is suddenly kissing him, his rapid, hot breath against Tony's face more welcome than Tony would admit. Loki pulls back and he is grinning as widely as Tony. Tony looks up and through the falling rain he can see the outline behind the clouds of the explosion, a darker cloud of debris falling toward the atmosphere. Loki turns to look behind them, seeking out the status of the battle they left behind.

Rain is making the grass and mud slick beneath them, but Tony still feels Loki's body stiffen, he feels Loki's gasped breath that leaks out of him as a desperate cry of denial. Before Tony can even figure out what is going on, Loki is gone from under his hands, scrambling to his feet and running over the grass.

Tony looks up, trying to figure out what is going on. He scans the battleground. Cap's quartet seems to be doing okay with the foot soldiers, now stranded by the destruction of their ship; Hulk has Korath in one hand; but all of them have stopped and are looking at something.

Nebula is closed with Thor. She has her arms raised, one locked in position, the other blade sliding through empty air as its reddened edge completes its strike, blood spraying through the air behind it. Thor is looking down at her, one hand locked around her neck, the other raised to summon Mjolnir. They are frozen in this position, and it is only when Thor brings his hammer down on Nebula's head with gruesome finality that Tony realizes that the reason Nebula's other arm isn't moving is because her second blade is wedged firmly between two of Thor's ribs and it caught on the bone when she jerked it upward toward the heart; her first blade has just severed Thor's throat so severely that blood is spreading over his chest quickly enough that it appears as if the redness of it is blooming up from underneath all of his skin.

Mjolnir's strike served, Thor starts to slump to his knees and then to the muddy ground. Loki is beside him in that moment. A high, strangled cry pierces the clouded sky, a cry of grief and rage, and Tony realizes that it is Storm. She drops out of the sky to land beside Thor, across from Loki. Tony moves toward them, but it's as if his limbs are weighing him down and he can't move fast enough. Storm screams again. Her grief tears the clouds down from the sky, the ground is riddled with lightning and every one of the alien foot soldiers is electrified to a crisp. Storm snatches Mjolnir from the ground and screams again as she raises the hammer and approaches Korath.

Hulk growls. He is holding Korath in his crushing grip but he throws the alien to Storm. Korath looks as though he might speak, but Mjolnir goes sailing through his head and returns to Storm through the alien's chest. She stands in the rain, shaking with her rage and loss as the white haze of power slowly leaves her eyes. Hulk smashes his fist into the ground, but seems disturbed as they both turn back to where Loki sits.

Tony has finally managed to cross the battlefield to his lover. It feels like it took him years. Loki is holding Thor against him, his head bent over Thor's. There is blood on Thor's lips as he speaks words to Loki that have no sound to them, and Loki shakes his head in denial. Tony moves to stand at Loki's shoulder; Thor's gaze shifts to Tony and he smiles. He looks as if he might try to speak again, but he doesn't, and eventually Tony realizes that the eyes staring into his can no longer see.

Loki pulls Thor against himself, and he screams. If Storm's cry was grief and rage, then Tony's not sure he has words to describe the sound that Loki makes. It is grief and loss and rage and guilt, and a pain that cannot be contained or expressed fully. Tony wants to say that it's not Loki's fault, but words are meaningless, and he's not even sure if it would be true or not. Loki screams again. He drops Thor's body and his fingers tear into the ground before tearing at his own hair as well. He is shuddering all over.

Tony drops to his knees beside Loki. Loki's face is wet but Tony can't tell if they are tears or rain. Tony wants to reach for him but he almost doesn't dare. "No," Loki says.

" _No_ ," Loki denies again. He looks up sharply. "I won't let it." He jumps to his feet. "Do you hear me?" he yells to the sky. "You cannot have him!" And there is Tesseract power glowing in his veins. Loki is shaking with the force of it. This close, Tony can see that he isn't controlling it as much as he is being swept up in it, the power of it burning and flaking up out of his skin. It's like trying to direct an entire mountain of avalanching snow into a narrow ravine with just a single piece of paper, and this isn't going to work.

"It's not going to work," Tony says, almost unconsciously, and Loki turns his burning blue gaze to Tony accusingly. "I mean, you can't control it. You need a funnel for the energy." Loki looks murderous, and on the other side of insane. Tony's fingers are already clumsily pulling at the front of his suit, where the delicate components of the teleporter are held. "This will help you direct the power," he says, the words as clumsy as his fingers in the cold wash of raw emotion. "The reactor is just energy, that's how it works. I designed the teleporter to work like how you channel energy anyway. Use it."

Loki understands what Tony is trying to say and he looks stunned. He nods, and Tony is a little disappointed that there is no attempt to talk him out of this, no last kiss, no nothing, even though he'd put money on the fact that he's not going to survive this. If Loki can't control the energy, then channeling it all through the suit’s reactor is going to fry the crap out of the teleporter, and the suit, and the main reactor- the only thing keeping shrapnel from tearing through his heart. But Tony pries the casing open and Loki has his hands pressed to either side of the arc reactor. His eyes meet Tony's for a moment, and if that moment is all he's going to get then Tony's going to cherish it forever- the warm heat of Loki's gaze, his hair disheveled, his face still bruised from his battle with the Other, all of him soaking wet. God, Tony wants to kiss him, but there isn't time. He feels the pulse of energy hit him.

It's like taking hold of a live wire, which he's actually done before, but so much worse because he can't let go of it. It has hold of him; it has its hands in his chest. He is strangely paralyzed, and Tony thinks crazily of Obi, tearing the arc reactor from him and leaving him there to die. He thinks he should have seen this coming, because wasn't he so certain that he was Yinsen this time, sacrificing himself to provide a way out of the cave?  He leans into Loki because he needs to smell him, to taste him, to remember where he is before this consumes him.

 

 

 

Tony wakes in a haze of pain. Everything around him is clouded and something beneath him is humming.

"Loki, he's awake," a voice says, and then he feels Loki's fingers, briefly, against his cheek.

"Tony," says Loki's warm voice in his ear. Loki sounds tired.

"It work’d?" Tony slurs, his voice a dry husk. He tries to raise his right arm, to reach out to Loki, but only manages to grunt in pain.

Loki reaches out to him, his fingers sliding through Tony’s hair. "Yes, Tony, yes it worked. Sleep now, love. Sleep."

And Tony does sleep, Loki's fingers stroking his temples.

 

 

When he wakes again Tony knows where he is before he is fully aware. The sound and smell of his workshop is ingrained in his subconscious and he can see the shape of it on the back of his eyelids. He lies still for a moment, savoring the hum of the arc reactor that ripples through his chest- though it feels weird, like it’s not sitting like it should- and the sensation of Loki's arms around him, before he opens his eyes.

His workshop is a mess. Drawers and cabinets are open, some of them with the doors torn off, and their contents are strewn about. Most of the visible surfaces are smeared with blood and mud. Tony jerks in surprise when he sees it, and Loki releases him. When he sits up be notices his backup suit, the Mark XV, in pieces on the floor, it’s central reactor torn from the remains of its chestplate.

Tony continues to inventory: he and Loki are the source of the mud- they are both still covered in it from the rain at the Westchester battle, and Loki is still covered in blood. Most of it is Thor's and the sight of it makes something twist in Tony's stomach. Tony's still wearing most of the suit though it looks like someone tried to wrench the chestplate off without disengaging the locks. He's dry and clean on his chest underneath, his shirt torn away around the reactor; Loki's hands are clean as well. Tony can almost see how the trashing of his workshop happened, Loki frantically tearing through spaces searching for a spare arc reactor. His hand goes to the slightly too large, too flat reactor that's wired into his chest and he looks up and meets Loki's eyes.

Those eyes are endless. They are so old. Tony can see the beginning of the universe in them, and its ending. "JARVIS could not tell me where to find your emergency arc reactor," Loki says. His voice is soft but it still echoes in the stillness of the room. He looks at Tony as if searching for something. "Though, he was able to help me modify your auxiliary suit's reactor to work."

"Yeah," Tony says, and his voice is scratchy, as if he's been screaming. If he was, he doesn't remember. He clears his throat. "I... um, I should change that." There are certain safeties in place, and JARVIS isn't allowed to give certain information to anyone but Tony. Tony trusts Loki, he trusts his team, but he's been stabbed in the back before, and he knows that's something Loki in particular has some practice at doing. He moves to stand but his knees don't hold his weight right away, and he ends up gesturing to the cabinet two to the left of the center. "There's a fake back in the bottom shelf."

Loki goes to it, and returns with the spare arc reactor. Switching it with the suit reactor is easy, and Tony sits for a moment, staring at Loki.

Loki drops his gaze and starts to lean back. There is a closure to the gesture, and Tony says, "Hey. "

Loki's eyes return to him, and Tony holds out his hand. Loki leans forward, placing his hands to either side of where Tony is sitting. Tony's hand comes to rest against Loki's arm. "I just realized you've got one of those things," Tony says lamely. "For babies."

Loki raises a hand to rest it against the cloth sling he wears banded tight across his chest and over one shoulder. Tony can see one tiny fist clutching at the collar of Loki's shirt, playing with the edge of the cloth. Loosening the sling causes a small gurgle to sound forth and Loki pools the cloth around a small body as he turns it toward Tony. The child fits into the double span of Loki's long-fingered hands, and blinks owlishly at Tony. It is covered in smears of drying mud and blood but doesn't look cold wrapped only in the single cloth. Tony pokes it with his finger to make sure it's real, and the child's fist closes firmly around the tip of his finger as it smiles and gurgles happily.

"With your help, I was able to channel enough energy to trap Thor's essence to this realm. I... I cannot return him to life, but a parting gift from the Phoenix allowed me to give him new life." He looks down at the child and there is a fondness and a wonder in his eyes. "We are bound in blood now, as we were not before."

Tony thinks he could kiss Loki forever with that look on his face. "So, you and me just made a baby, who is also your brother? Man, I need to call Montel." Loki shoots him a reproving look, but he has a question he won't quite ask hovering behind his expression. Tony's too tired to try figuring it out all on his own, so he asks, "What is it?"

"I could not have done it without your help, but what I did to you almost killed you."

Tony shrugs. "It was my idea. And nobody died. That's a good day in my book." He leans in and kisses Loki. It's a lingering touch that could almost turn into more... if they weren't still both filthy, and there wasn't a baby in the crook of Loki's arm, curled against his chest cooing softly. Tony moves to try standing up again and finds the prospect slightly easier but still not as simple as he'd though. "I do still feel kind of like I went a few losing rounds with an electrical grid," he complains as he moves stiffly. "Though that could be because I slept in the suit."

Loki tucks the child away safely against his chest and helps Tony disengage the rest of the suit and then walk crookedly toward the elevator. "I would not let anyone into your workshop," Loki says suddenly.

"Thanks," Tony says.

Loki looks like he would say more, but JARVIS interrupts. "Sir, I must say it is good to see you so lively when we feared the worst. Your team is waiting on a report on your progress. They are currently encamped in the living area of your penthouse as Loki banned anyone from entering your workshop, a move I supported."

Loki looks slightly chagrinned. "I will send them away."

Tony smiles and lays a hand on Loki's arm. "No, it's okay." He leans against Loki, who brings an arm up and wraps it around Tony. "They want to know if we're okay." Because he for one does not believe everyone is waiting in his penthouse just to find out about _him_ , almost dying or not.  "Take us up, J."

 

When the elevator opens on the penthouse there are three women standing near it, blocking the rest of the room. Storm has her back to them, facing off against a woman whom Tony has never seen before. She is regal, tall and willowy, and the design of her clothing is familiar. And the moment he sees her, Loki goes absolutely rigid. So, Tony can make some guesses. Pepper is the third woman. She is in full on CEO mode, the smooth arch of her brows drawn down over her nose in that expression that means she's thinking about eviscerating some rival company's head misogynist.

"Pepper," Tony says, and she smiles at him and comes to him. She glances at Loki but takes Tony's hand and Tony pulls her in close for a hug which she returns without reservation despite the fact that he's still a mess.

"Stop doing that," she murmurs against his ear. "I like you better alive."

He laughs and kisses her cheek.

Storm is holding Mjolnir, and Tony forgot until this moment why that's a _thing_ , and the woman he doesn't know is staring at Storm, pride and sorrow on her face.

"What do you want here?" Loki says to the woman.

"I am here for my son," she says. Loki bristles, and she steps forward, steps around Storm, and looks into Loki's eyes, and says, "How are you?"

Loki is disarmed, and he disengages. "I believe I am closer to finding what we spoke of previously," he says. There is a certain weight to the way he has one hand pressed over tiny Thor, but doesn't seem to realize it at first. He seems to remember Thor after he's spoken and his eyes dart from his new baby brother to the woman. "And I have rather defied the Norns," he adds.

The woman's expression is fond, and a touch mischievous. "He is your brother in blood, now."

Loki is not impressed by her observation and cuts to the chase. "You are here to take him."

"I would like that," she admits.

Loki shakes his head. "I will not give him to Asgard." His arms tighten. "Not to Odin."

The woman nods. "I thought as much. May I hold him?"

Loki hesitates, but hands her the child. She smiles at Thor's small face. "I remember when you first came to me you were no bigger than this," she croons and the baby giggles. And Tony knew this was Thor and Loki's mother, but he'd forgotten that she wasn't Thor's biological mother any more than she was Loki's. He's pretty sure she dropped that on purpose, to remind them.

Loki sighs. "I will not give him solely to Asgard," he repeats. "But, to you, Mother, I will give him again." She looks at him and they look into each other's eyes for a long while. "Swear to me," Loki finally says, but he stumbles on the words and can't say what he would have her swear.

But Frigga hands the child to Tony and holds her hands out before her, summoning forth a long knife- or perhaps a short sword, Tony's not up on alien weapon terminology that old-fashioned- and she places the hilt under Loki's hand, her hand covering his. "I make this oath: he is thine first, before he is Odin's. In this, Odin has no claim." Loki nods. Frigga smiles. "I will never lie to him about his family or his origins. I will raise him to love all the realms. And I will relinquish him to you as you desire."

Loki bows his head and seems to be having more trouble than he usually does in burying his emotions. "I have heard your oath, and I give you my thanks," he says.

Frigga waves her hand and the knife vanishes back to where it came, and she raises her hand to cup Loki's cheek.

Storm lifts Thor from Tony's arms. "He will be different," she says. Mjolnir hangs from her hip, and the child reaches for the thong at the handle.

"He will still be Thor," Frigga says. "And everything that makes him Thor will still be within him. But he will not have the memories of the life he lived here."

Storm nods. She hands the child to Loki and steps back. "Then my beloved did die today."

Loki closes his eyes for a moment. "I'm sorry."

Storm shakes her head and makes a firm motion of denial with her hand. "With all you have given him this night, do not apologize that it is not more. Though he would have been proud to die in battle, even more so defending his family, Thor would want every moment he could steal from the fates to spend with those he loved. And while my own love for him will not fade, it must change."

Frigga nods. "Though he did not give you the legacy you both wished, Mjolnir has chosen you and none may take that from you."

Storm shakes her head again. "I will keep it awhile, but my beloved will call for it again." She smiles, it's small but it's her first smile since before this night began.

Frigga takes the child back from Loki and shares one last look with him before she retreats out to Tony's landing platform. The storm from Westchester followed them here, but Frigga calls out something that Tony doesn't hear, and she is captures in a beam of light and vanishes.

Tony blinks and looks around the room. Widow, Hawkeye, and Barnes are standing to one side talking softly. Bruce is sitting on the couch looking tired; Darcy and Betsy are sitting near him. The rest of Storm's people are missing. Cap is walking toward him. The hand he lays on Tony's shoulder does not have a tenth of its usual gusto, and Tony realizes he probably looks worse than he feels, and he feels that while he is okay for the moment he is going to crash and crash hard any minute. "I'm glad you're okay," Steve says. "We were worried about you."

Tony grins. "Can't get rid of me, Cap."

Bruce returns his grin from across the room.

"I need to talk to you, Tony," Pepper says. He turns to her. "I already told everyone else most of it, but SHIELD has declared Loki a threat to global security. They are coming here to take him away."

Tony laughs. "They can't touch him." Loki smirks, but there is nowhere near his usual energy in the gesture. If SHIELD comes for them now, they might actually do some serious damage. Tony sighs. "JARVIS, start packing."

"Of course, sir."

Pepper frowns. "Tony, what are you doing?"

He takes her by the shoulders. "I'm leaving. The company's already yours, Pep. Any Avengers want to stay, they can use the Tower facilities." He glances at Loki. "After what SHIELD did, leaving us hanging, I won't stay here. And I won't let them do anything to Loki." Loki's eyes flash in indignation, but Tony gives him a _zip it_ gesture. "Everything you pulled today? You're going to fall over even before I do, so don't even give me any lip right now. We're flying to Morocco, tonight. SHIELD might be international but that'll confuse them enough until we can get our feet under us. Anybody wants to come, they're welcome."

Pepper is stunned, but, after a moment, not really surprised. Everyone else sorts themselves out with an equanimity that suggests they also saw this coming. Steve, Barnes, Clint, and Natasha decide to come with Tony and Loki. Ororo is going with Betsy to Westchester for the moment; Xavier's Estate (the money, not the land) offers some protection, but Tony invites them to bring the kids to Africa if SHIELD gives them any trouble. Ororo likes the idea.

Bruce comes to Tony after the others; Darcy already walked out with Betsy, seeing her off while Ororo flies back. "You know I want to go with you," he says. Tony only nods and waits, because with everything they've been through he knows Bruce isn't going to cut and run on him now. "It's just... Darcy's almost finished with her coursework and research. After she's ABD she'll have more mobility to do her writing. I want to be here for her. I hope you can understand."

"Bruce." Tony pulls the other man into the closest he can approximate a bone-crushing hug while being this tired, and having his head still tingling a bit from being an energy channel. "I get it. Don't even feel bad. Keep one of the quinjets, in case you need to get out of town fast and join us whenever you're ready." He grins. "You know, I'm looking forward to someday confusing the shit out of people with multiple Doctor Banners."

Bruce flushes. "We haven't-" he says, but Tony's too tired to even tease him about it more, and he only claps him on the shoulder.

 

They fly out an hour later. Tony can look back and see SHIELD operatives storming his building in the morning sunlight. Pepper is the only one there. Well, Pepper and a team of lawyers, a couple of private investigators, and five 24-hour news channels worth of reporters. Tony would feel a bit sorry for Fury, but he doesn't know Sitwell so he's not really torn up about leaving him to Pepper's tender mercies.

 

They're out over the water when unconsciousness overtakes Tony again. As he predicted, Loki went down first. Tony curls up next to him, tucked in the corner of the quinjet, while Clint flies them toward the future.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soundtrack listing: "Dreams" is written by Stevie Nicks and performed by Fleetwood Mac. 
> 
> Notes:   
> \- Tony misquotes the movie _Patton_ ; the line is actually: "Rommel, you magnificent bastard, I read your book!"  
> \- I usually only have characters do things that I think they would actually do in a given situation, so I feel obligated to apologize for somewhat maligning Carol Danvers. I really wanted the turn to be a surprise, but I don't know that I've justified a version of her who would prioritize following orders over kicking aliens off her planet.


	10. Why Don't We Do It in the Road

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony and the remaining Avengers set up shop in Morocco.

**Location:** Universe YOSLY, Designation: Delta  
Casablanca, Morocco  
Stark Tower  
_4 years pre-anomaly_  
_(7 hours after the Westchester battle)_

Tony wakes enough when Clint lands the quinjet on the roof of his Tower to inform the necessary personnel that he _is_ Tony Stark and he _does_ have clearance to land a quinjet on top of his building if he wants to even if he didn't notify them. He's still a little out of it and he maybe promises the city official who won't stop badgering him in Arabic that he'll donate a city park or something. It's about there that Natasha takes over. Her Arabic is better than Tony trying to force the man to respond to his comments in French, and she soothes ruffled bureaucratic feathers; Tony's aware enough to realize that it helps her, having a mask to wear, a purpose to fulfill, so he leaves her to it. They lost a comrade tonight, even if they didn't really, and Tony's still processing that, too.

He makes his way back to the rear of the quinjet where Loki is still sleeping like the dead. Post flight checks done, Clint is leaning against a wall near him. Tony stops and stares at him warily. Clint looks up at Tony and shrugs at his narrowed gaze, moving back up to the front of the quinjet to stand behind Natasha.

Tony has to put the Mark XIV suit on to carry Loki inside to their room even though the penthouse is only a floor and a half down from the hanger, which comprises the entire top level under the roof itself. He thinks on a normal day he could have managed the weight of his unconscious lover even if Loki is not quite a foot taller than him, but today all he wants to do is join him again in unconsciousness as quickly as possible.

There's a humming energy sparking over Loki's skin, even in his sleep. Tony thinks he should pay attention to that, but he's tired enough to think that if it kills them both before he wakes then he won't have to deal with it.

 

So when Tony does wake, many hours later, he's having trouble breathing. He manages to gasp "JARVIS?" but there is no response, and he's realizing that, wherever he is, it is not where he fell asleep- it’s _too_ dark, and cold, and the air is apparently _really_ thin.

But wherever it is kind of fades into a cascade of stars before he can get a good look at it, and then suddenly there is blazing sunlight in his eyes and he's washed in baking heat. At least the air is breathable, and he looks around him, squinting in the light.

He's still in bed, but that bed is sitting in the middle of a scrubby, grassy plain that stretches as far as his eyes can see. The sun is setting right in from of him, behind a huge, rounded mound of rock that Tony's pretty sure he remembers being an Australian landmark the last time he checked. He looks over and Loki is still lying beside him, twitching in his sleep, shivers of blue energy rippling over his skin.

"Loki," Tony calls hesitantly.

Loki twitches harder, and they fall through a well of stars, and suddenly Tony finds his bed perched on the edge of what looks like a glacier. The too hot sunshine has been replaced with a cold that steals the warmth from his very being, and Tony's a little disturbed to look up, and up a bit more, and realize that there are eyes looking down at them.

"Loki," he calls again, more urgently, reaching for his lover and shaking him slightly.

Loki comes awake with a shudder. He opens his eyes are they are blue with Tesseract energy. He inhales shakily and looks around them with a groan of denial, but Tony reaches for him again. "Loki, hey, I'm here," he says, trying to not freak out himself. He's about 90% certain they aren't actually on Earth anymore, a certainly growing larger every moment because the eyes looking down at them are getting closer and the face that goes with those red eyes is blue in the same way that Loki is occasionally blue.

Loki turns to Tony. He looks... well, scared is not a word that Tony wants to use but it fits the bill. He cups Tony's cheek, staring into his eyes, and they're falling through stars again.

They end up sprawled on the floor of his workshop, without the bed this time which makes everything fairly uncomfortable. Loki is breathing hard, and Tony reaches for him. "Hey, it's okay." HIs own pulse is racing, but this is his workshop, it's safe- even if he's realizing that it's not exactly a workshop that's been recently familiar. "Are we... I think we're in Malibu. How- You've never been here, right?"

Loki looks around them warily. "I... borrowed the location from your mind. My thoughts were..." He trails off, and Tony takes Loki's face between his hands and kisses him. Loki leans into him, eager for his touch, but the energy rippling over his skin sparks a flare of response when he presses too close and brushes against the arc reactor.

Tony sucks in a harsh breath. The sensation is sharp, almost like getting a really hard shock; not what he would call painful, compared to other things he’s felt, but not really pleasant.

Loki pulls away from him, but Tony buries his fingers in Loki's hair and refuses to let go. Loki's eyes are still blue and trails of blue are tracing their way down his cheeks in a parody of tears. "Let go. I will hurt you."

Tony shakes his head. Loki ditched the dead weight on the ice planet, but he didn't leave Tony when he could have. "Take us home," he says softly. Loki makes a pained sound of frustration, like he might have been trying but the word has a complicated history for him. "It's okay, use me again." And Tony tries to fix Casablanca in his mind. They'd arrived in the dark the night before, but he's been to that particular penthouse enough recently that he can picture some features of it that are more or less unique to that location.

They end up sprawled on the floor next to the couch Tony had pictured, with its butter soft leather that Tony loves. Tony grunts, because his ass is not enjoying this trip. Loki is off of him faster than Tony can react; he leaves a few strands of hair still tangled in Tony's fingers.

"Loki!" Tony demands, fear in his voice. "Please, don't-" And he stops, because he's not sure what he wants to say other than _don't leave me_ , and that's a little too much to be shouting across a room while he's sitting here naked.

But Loki does stop. He's standing warily, half the room away, staring at his hands before moving up to regard his reflection in the window. He touches his face, the blue glow of Tesseract energy leaking through his skin. "I..." he begins, but then presses his lips together. 

Tony sighs; he recognizes that Loki's not going to talk about this. It's late morning here in western Africa and there are really a lot of things Tony needs to be doing today. "I should... I need to go, see what everyone is doing. And see if Natasha promised that official guy from last night shares in my company or something."

Loki doesn't respond at first, just stares at the window. But after a few moments Tony can see him gathering himself, as if reaching a decision. "Your kingdom requires ordering," Loki says. It feels familiar and joking, but his gaze is far away.

Tony wants to reach for him, but he isn't sure he can reach across the chasm of the room.

Loki frowns down at his hands, but straightens his posture and says, "I... have certain items which require ordering as well."

Tony cocks an eyebrow. He has an idea, but he feels like to mention it might be construed as offering commentary, and he still feels a bit raw with everything that's happened. "Okay, great," he says when Loki doesn't add anything else. He pulls himself to his feet and pauses. “I’ll see you later.” He says it like fact, but it’s actually a question, and after a long moment of his waiting Loki nods. Tony takes a deep breath and goes to take a shower.

He's stayed in this building often enough lately, with T'Challa not being a huge fan of inviting anyone to Wakanda for science hang outs or diplomatic meetings, that the suite is well stocked for both of them. Tony isn't surprised when Loki doesn't join him in the shower, but he is a little worried when he walks back out to the main room and Loki is gone. But he's done all he can about it for the moment, and Tony finishes getting dressed and heads downstairs.

 

It's not the disaster he was expecting. JARVIS has most everything in hand, and the staff is actually versed enough in his quirks by now that there isn't much surprise with the announcement that he and his superhero pals are moving in on a permanent full-time basis. He learns from JARVIS that he does indeed owe the city police some upgraded gear; he may not make weapons but he's been working on a new synthetic fiber blend that's lighter weight but has a higher UTS than Kevlar. The police chief of the prefecture where his Tower is located was very interested when Natasha mentioned it.

At the moment Natasha's still, with Clint, asleep, but she shows up while Tony works through the backlog of messages waiting for him; JARVIS already weeded through the junk and there are still 12 people he needs to call and have a chat with before he's content that SHIELD isn't going to be able to get any hooks in him here. He's glad to see Natasha when she walks in, and it kind of sneaks up on him that he's really glad to see _her_ , not just another person but that it's his teammate and she's still here with him, and he feels maybe another level of what happened last night start to sink in.

Tony's pretty sure Natasha knows everything going on in his head, but she doesn't say anything, doesn't even smirk knowingly, she just sits down and helps him figure out what people need. It doesn't matter if it's the King of Morocco or the Wali of Grand Casablanca or the head of the staffing company who provides cleaning services for the building, everybody needs something. Natasha's good at figuring out what that is.

 

After dealing with everything else it's still not that late and Tony calls Pepper. She can't talk much, but he's been monitoring her since he woke up anyway, and he knows she's in a room full of lawyers and government agents- the reason he's calling has nothing to do with getting information. "Here's looking at you, kid," he says, voice deep and serious.

He can hear the humor that underscores her voice as she replies in annoyance, "Mister Stark, I'm sure that nonsense flies well wherever you are, but I didn't get any sleep last night and tonight isn't looking promising either."

He wants to say a lot of things to her- like I love you, and thank you, and Pepper I would never make it through anything without you- but they aren't really relevant at the moment, and people who aren't supposed to be listening _are_ , so he disconnects without saying anything else.

He's monitoring Bruce too, and he calls and doesn't get an answer, but he isn't worried, yet. He leaves Bruce a message saying that they arrived, and everyone is okay.

Natasha is watching him when he's done. "Thank you," she says, out of nowhere.

"For what?" Tony says warily.

Natasha shrugs and looks away. Outside the window the cityscape is bright with lights against the falling evening and she pretends to watch it. "You didn't need to let us come," she says. "You didn't need to welcome us back, after we were the ones who chose to leave.

"I... was loyal to SHIELD because they took me in and showed me a different path, a better path. But... I'm loyal to people, I suppose." She looks at him sidelong. "You didn't need to give Clint a second chance."

Tony blinks. He's never thought of it like that. "I was the reason Clint got the ax in the first place," he says, but Natasha shakes her head. Tony ignores her. "And maybe it's not my fault, but it's my boyfriend who kind of makes it impossible to point fingers and bring up things people did in the past."

Natasha smirks.

It's not really anything, but now that he thinks about it, he thinks about Loki and Clint and the way Clint was hovering last night. His right hand presses against the arc reactor. "Where is Clint, anyway?"

Natasha's expression says she knows he isn't going to like it, but she tells him anyway. "Loki asked for his assistance."

Tony's hand spasms against his chest and he thinks he must have heard her wrong, even as he stands from the chair like there is an electrical current running through the seat. "What?"

Natasha remains seated. "Steve is with them," she says, and he can see that she is not as nonchalant as she appears, flipping a pen between her fingers with a dexterous ease that is belied by the concentration she is placing into the gesture.

Tony takes a deep breath. "JARVIS, where is everyone?"

"Loki, Mister Barton, Captain Rogers, and Sergeant Barnes are in the roof hanger, unpacking the items you brought from the New York facility, sir."

And Tony knows immediately what Loki is doing. He simultaneously has a stab of both fear and anger, because why is Loki doing it behind Tony's back? And why the hell did he apparently invite everyone else?

He moves toward the door, and Natasha is right behind him. "Don't try to stop me," he warns her.

She shakes her head. "Clint told me to stay away, he was handling it," she whispers, "but I..." Her lips are a thin line and her eyes are hard. "I don't trust Loki."

Tony throws the door open. "I don't trust Clint when it comes to Loki," he shoots back at her.

 

They reach the hanger quickly, but not quickly enough to stop Tony's heart from beating against the back of his throat. He didn't bring much from New York. It's just the tech advanced enough that he didn't want to chance it falling into SHIELD's hands, and shiny enough that he couldn't just turn it into scrap, his latest suits that need repairs, and the artifacts in his vault which is pretty much just...

Loki's scepter, with the mind controlling stone, is sitting in the middle of the floor under the bright artificial lights. Steve is crouched with his hand on the handle end of the scepter and he looks properly skeptical about it. Barnes and Clint are standing back a bit, watching. Loki is sitting across from Steve. He has his hands held before him in the air as if he's conjuring something. The expression on his face is both determined and pained, and Tony wants to go to him.

Natasha seizes him by the arm, slaps her hand over his mouth, and hauls him behind the landing struts of the quinjet so that they can watch without being spotted quickly. Tony fights her for a moment; she might be half his weight soaking wet, but she's not kidding around and she slams an elbow into his kidney when he won't be still. So he shuts up and watches.

Loki's expression continues to be one of pain, and he is breathing heavily and sweating. Tony's hands close tightly around Natasha's wrist.

"Should we stop him?" Barnes asks. He seems discomfited, though whether it’s by Loki’s proximity or his level of distress is a tossup.

Clint shakes his head. He is watching Loki closely and his face is blank of emotion. "It's not going to be easy," he says. "He said that. Frankly, I can stand to see him sweat a bit more." He glances at Steve. "Just hold the anchor steady Cap, and give him a little nudge. It should work like he said."

Steve shakes his head and when he speaks it is easy to see he is not happy about this situation. "Tony should be here."

Clint shakes his head but what he says is, "That wasn't my call."

Loki tenses, and they all fall silent. Loki's eyes snap open, and they are solid blue with Tesseract energy, his entire face glowing with it. Tony struggles again to break free, but Widow kicks his knees out from under him, bringing him down to the ground and twisting his arm behind him.

"Now," Clint says.

Steve, with an expression of distaste, takes hold of the scepter firmly with both hands. He raises it. "Give me the Tesseract," he commands.

Loki hisses and pulls away, raising his hands to attack. Barnes and Clint seize him by the arms and throw him to the floor. He struggles against them, but Barnes keeps him well pinned. Tony knows that, whatever Tesseract related tricks he was pulling this morning, Loki is still exhausted from turning himself inside out yesterday, and he thinks he might kill the whole lot of them, to do this when Loki has done so much for them. Tony tries to twist away but Natasha is pressed on top of him.

"Release the Tesseract," Steve says, and Loki screams in anger.

"You're not very good at that," Clint grunts.

"I thought that was why we gave him the job?" Barnes grins, a tight and feral baring of teeth, and Loki thrashes beneath him. "Hit him once more, Steve, I think we're almost there."

One more command and Loki's hands start bleeding blue energy. The Tesseract forms in the air in a strangely parodic reversal of that day that feels so long ago, when the Phoenix tried to burn the world- the cold heart of it surrounded by the cubed frame. Loki thrashes and groans once more, but he half sets, half throws, the Tesseract to the floor of the hanger.

Steve places the scepter on the ground immediately, and Barnes and Clint stop holding Loki down. Loki curls on his side with another groan, his hands clenching convulsively.

"You okay?" Clint asks.

"Fine," Loki grits out, and he sighs, "I know you're there, Tony."

Natasha releases him, and Tony scrambles to his feet as everyone turns to look at them. "What the ever-loving _fuck_ ," Tony says, because seriously.

"It was his idea!" Steve says, hands spread disarmingly but expression serious.

Barnes nods agreement as he regards Tony coolly. Clint narrows his eyes. "You're not supposed to be here," he says accusingly.

"What, so you can fucking torture my boyfriend without me knowing about it?"

"Tony." Loki pushes himself up into a sitting position. Tony goes and kneels beside him, because if he doesn't he thinks he might start shooting repulsors at people and he's starting to get that that isn't what's called for here. "I asked for their assistance," Loki says. He looks as wrecked as he did on the spaceship, fighting the Other, and it keeps the words Tony wants to shout behind his lips.

"The whole story, now," he says instead.

It's Clint who narrates. "The Tesseract is too powerful. How Loki managed to keep it balanced as long as he did is... well, saying nice things about that asshole is what got me into this mess so I'll just shut up. After what happened, with Thor-" Clint's voice almost stumbles over the name and he does pause a moment- "he couldn't hold the power balanced anymore. But it's not... It's not something you can just put down, and be done with." Tony closes his eyes, because he saw Loki this morning trying something of the sort and he _knows_ that. "So he asked for us to help get it out of him."

Tony looks at the floor. "You thought I couldn't handle that?"

Loki reaches out a hand and touches it to Tony's chest. For the first time, his touch doesn't spark an answer of blue fire from the arc reactor. "I thought this would... complicate things," he says, his voice little more than a whisper. "The energy is very similar. But I was wrong." His hand falls away. "I could feel you there, and it... helped."

There are a million things Tony wants to say, to ask, but he's aware of their audience and it suddenly hits him what Loki actually did here, because he knows how much Loki hates showing weakness and here he is, sharing with Tony's team his weakness, willingly submitting to their assistance and trusting their help. Whatever animosity Clint may have retained toward Loki is gone from his posture now and he smiles openly at Natasha as she joins him, leaning against him as she looks up into his face and smiles in response.

So Tony plays along and he asks the question he knows Loki wants him to ask. He jerks his head toward the Tesseract and the scepter. "What do we do with them now?"

It's Steve who says, "Just locking them up would mean people would keep trying to break in and steal them back." he shakes his head. "Not that I doubt your tech, Tony, but if they keep coming it seems inevitable they will eventually succeed." It is unspoken, but there is an edge to his voice that says he does _not_ want that to _ever_ happen.

Clint and Barnes look at each other. "It's... too dangerous a thing to be kept on Earth," Barnes says.

Clint nods. "I get that we can't exactly destroy it, but it came from space right? Not that I want to give that power to someone else, but isn't there a place in all the universe where we can put it so that _no one_ can find it?"

Loki stirs. "No. There is no such place. There is one who will seek out the Stones wherever they are, whatever obstruction lies in his path. However," he hesitates, and Tony has the sensation that Loki guided the conversation, this entire encounter, to this point. "There is a place I can put them where no one from Midgard can reach them, and it would take millennia of time and effort for anyone else to discover them."

Clint stills. "No one can reach them but _you_ ," he clarifies.

And _that_ is the reason- Tony knows that Natasha can see it, and the rest of them aren’t exactly slouches when it comes to deceptive tactics- the reason that Loki asked for their help, allowed them to witness his weakness, because he needed their trust for this. He doesn't _really_ , because he's still more powerful than everyone in this room- on days when he hasn't been rewriting the fabric of the _cosmos_ \- so Tony knows he's playing something else, something that Tony can't quite see yet.

Clint sighs. "Steve," he says. He waves his hand before Tony can protest. "I know you're the boss around here Tony, but I don't trust you to be impartial in this case. I want Steve's opinion, and I'll abide by his decision."

Steve takes a deep breath and regards Loki solemnly. "Okay," he says after a moment. Tony lets out the breath he hadn't realized he was holding. "There's a reason we intended to send the Tesseract back..." Steve stumbles where Clint didn't and swallows before he continues, "back with Thor to Asgard. We can't contain it here." His eyes narrow at Loki. "We couldn't contain _you_. But you... You have proven yourself a true comrade in arms." He glances around the group. "We have all done things in the past which we regret, and we have hurt each other. But we can rise above the past and become better."

Loki nods. He moves to the Tesseract and places his hands in the air on either side of it. With a twist of hands like a stage magician, the Tesseract disappears. Loki repeats the gesture with the scepter. He is careful throughout to not actually touch either of them. Afterward, he turns to Steve. "You are wise not to ask for promises from me, but I will swear that as long as there is power and life in me these items will never again be used against Midgard."

Steve looks satisfied.

"That is all," Loki says, but what the words really mean is _you are dismissed_ , and Tony sometimes forgets that Loki is a prince. Everyone files out of the hanger, and Tony steps closer to Loki and pretends not to notice when Loki sags against him, resting his forehead in the curve of Tony's neck so that Tony can feel Loki's breath ghosting across his throat.

Tony doesn't speak, just hauls Loki to the elevator and takes him down to the penthouse. He helps Loki to the couch and presses a kiss to his cheek. "You got what you wanted." And even Tony can't tell if his words are an observation or a question.

But Loki answers, "Yes." He opens his eyes to slits and looks up at Tony searchingly.

Tony's more awake than he was last night so he _doesn't_ ask what seems like the obvious question and instead goes for, "Where you put them, can you get them out? Without killing yourself or anything."

"Yes," Loki says.

"You got anything else in there?"

"Yes," he says again, and there is a hint of a smile to the word.

Tony nods and sinks onto the couch beside Loki, his nose pressed against Loki's collarbone. It's been kind of an eventful day and he would really like to spend what remains of it just sitting and basking in the presence of his lover.

Loki's fingers stroke through Tony's hair and he seems still uneasy. "You are very quiet," he observes.

Tony reads behind the words to the real question and leans up to answer. "I'm okay. Just tired, still. And I was pretty sure for a minute there that if I said anything it was going to ruin your big plan."

Loki relaxes. "Ah." His lips are tracing Tony's hairline as he works his way down to take the lobe of Tony's ear between his teeth.

Tony chuckles and rolls his head up to claim those lips with his. There are things that need to be said, but there is an unfamiliar lassitude stilling Tony's tongue. He talks because his mind is too full and it needs expression, but also because he has always been so convinced of the temporality of everything that surrounds him. Everything fades into the future faster than the present can exist, and everyone leaves, so he's learned to get out the things he needs to say now or not worry about ever saying them. But, for the first time there is a sense of permanence to this. "We should talk," he murmurs, half talking to himself, "but it can wait for tomorrow. You'll be here tomorrow."

Loki smiles indulgently. "Yes," he allows, but he seems mystified as to why that should be important.

Tony takes a deep breath. "I've never been really certain about that before."

Loki's eyebrows draw down. "Have I given you reason to doubt my interest in returning?" The words are clipped.

Tony shakes his head. "Not you. Me."

"'You,'" Loki muses, still sounding annoyed, but he looks at Tony and relaxes, leaning in to murmur, the words almost harsh, "Everyone in your life has left you."

It's too much, more than Tony thought it would be, and he tries to pull away and hide from it, but Loki catches his hands and pulls him back. Tony forces himself to breathe deeply, but his breaths are still too shaky and instead of pulling away he presses himself against Loki, hiding his face in Loki's neck.

"I will stay," Loki says. "Though, I am... less, now. Without the Tesseract, I can no longer transport through space at a whim, and must limit myself to walking the paths of Yggdrasil that lie between the Realms." He breathes against Tony's ear, "Will you not become bored with me?"

Tony jerks away and looks up sharply. "Never happen," he denies firmly. "You think kicking the Tesseract habit in any way makes you less remarkable?" He has Loki's face in his hands again and he is staring into the god's eyes. They are bright and green, with thin strands of blue and red flickering through them to almost turn them hazel. "You're still changing," Tony says, voice soft with wonder. "You'll never stop being new every day. Dear god, boredom is a thing that should never be spoken of in conjunction with Loki." He kisses Loki, softly at first, but with growing passion.

Loki pulls at him, pulling him closer, and Tony thinks he might not be the only one who needs to _feel_. They move against each other, and Tony manages to shrug off his shirt and kick off his pants without breaking away. He shivers against the coolness of the room, the air system still energetically combating the desert heat that has only just passed into night, and Loki's hands on him burn like fire, filling him with heat. Finding the lubricant takes a moment but Tony keeps it stashed everywhere, and he throws back his head and moans with the sensation of Loki's fingers opening him up.

Tony moans again as Loki's cock settles inside him, and his arms are tight across Loki's shoulders as he leans against Loki. He raises and lowers himself, Loki's hands stroking his back and cupping his ass.

They move slowly, languidly, touching more important than climax, and Tony is reminded of the first night, when Loki straddled him on the couch, and even then it was about a connection, a search for something deeper than sex. Tony had had no idea that sex could feel like _this_ , that he could be _so_ filled with another person, every time they touch already knowing how the other would react, and building on that a bridge to reach _deeper_.

After they climax, and kiss some more, and shower, and have moved to the bedroom, Tony combs his fingers through Loki's hair, brushing the long strands away from Loki's face. "And you," he murmurs. "Will you get bored with me?" Because he hasn't yet, but the future is always changing.

Loki's eyes snap open so fast he couldn't have been the half asleep that Tony thought he was. "Never," Loki says, like a promise. He pulls Tony against him and rolls over deeper into the bed and Tony thinks this time he really has fallen asleep, but Loki whispers against the top of Tony's head, "Tony, boredom flees from you like a stag before a pack of ravenous wolves."

Tony laughs and relaxes enough to sleep.

 

 

 

The next few days seem just as full of bureaucrats he needs to grease, though thankfully emptier of catching his team trying to kill his boyfriend.

The news of his presence has spread to other prefectures in the city, and officials descend on his Tower- some to offer gifts, some seeking more information, some just to gawk. Thankfully there isn't much in the way of overt hostility. Casablanca is the thriving economic heart of the region of the Maghreb, and most people care less about intergalactic war criminals and more about if he can make them money and give them things.

Steve is already networking with the city police force, asking them if there's anything he and Barnes can help with in the way of supervillain style shenanigans that need to be stopped. It’s not really an endgame, just a time filler to help them get more familiar with the local scene while they figure out what else they’re going to do, but members of the Avengers start working with a task force within Grand Casablanca's eight prefectures. Tony teases Steve about needing to change his name.

Tony puts Clint in charge of building security again. Clint rolls his eyes and accepts with ill humor. Natasha poking him in the side has something to do with his accepting but probably more to do with his pretense of grouchiness. Tony almost feels incapable of ordering Natasha around, but he officially puts her in charge of what she's already doing: liaising. She seems pleased, and even comments that it'll be nice to work somewhere where her ability to kill a person in less than thirty seconds is not her most marketable skill.

The team wasn't exactly thinking clearly when it came to material acquisitions that night in Westchester, and SHIELD has been trying to take possession of the two abandoned spacecraft they left in the field. Storm and her students have been managing to hold them off, but it's pretty touch and go and Ororo would like it if Tony would come take care of the problem. Tony would love to, but he's kind of got other things on his mind.

 

Loki sleeps for seventy-six hours straight, starting that night after his de-Tesseracting. Tony's not worried. He keeps telling himself he isn't. Can Loki get sick? He's not really sure. Probably not? Tony really wants to ask Thor, but that thought kind of cuts him in his gut and just makes him more worried. What if Loki did something, to bring Thor back? What if it cost him more than Tony is willing to give? As Loki sleeps, Tony notices a brittleness to him that spikes his worry to the point where he has trouble pretending to pay attention to anything else. In the middle of the second day Loki grunts and his skin just breaks away, flaking up blue and ridged underneath. He seems to sleep deeper after this.

Tony cancels all his meetings; he wasn’t focusing anyway, people talking at him while he sat there quietly freaking out. After Loki stopped holding the pretense of his pale skin, Tony figured this was sanctuary territory: Thor's words are heavy in his head- _he has chosen this sanctuary_ \- and Tony needs to live up to that trust, to the faith that Thor placed in him. He needs to watch over Loki, guard his rest.

When Loki finally wakes, Tony is sitting beside him on the bed, wearing his gauntlets. Loki blinks up at him and smiles lazily. "Tony," he says, voice blurry with sleep, and something else, a sort of rough edge he only has in this form. He seems confused by the sound of his own voice, but reaches out to Tony, his fingers curling around Tony's leg. When he sees his own hand he says, "ah," and seems to realize. He starts to pull back, but Tony reaches for him.

Tony's still wearing his gauntlets so he grasps Loki's hand in one of his own while he mumbles an apology and tosses the other gauntlet to JARVIS before switching hands, feeling the cool press of Loki's skin against his fingers as he tosses the second gauntlet.

Loki watches him, amused. "You were expecting trouble?"

"No." Tony keeps his eyes on the fingers he's playing between his own. "Just... prepared for it."

"Ah."

Tony looks up to meet Loki's gaze, and there is so much in Loki's eyes at that moment that Tony feels like he's drowning a little in the weight of it. He clears his throat and holds more tightly to Loki's hand.

Loki's fingers curl around Tony's with a slow and determined possessiveness. He sighs. "The Phoenix... touched me, before she left me in the nebula. I believe she gave me a piece of herself in that moment. A piece of her power that... reasoned me, and helped me control the Space Stone." He takes a deep breath, his expression sour. "I gave it up, to hold on to Thor. That is why I could no longer balance the power as I had before. With the Space Stone in my possession I’ve lost the habit of maintaining a personal reserve of energy, which left me somewhat bereft when I managed to separate the Infinity Stone from my own power."

Tony nods, relieved. "I was worried- okay, I really wish I'd picked a different word there- but I thought maybe you gave up something of yourself to bring Thor back. And I..." Tony stops, not really sure where he's going. I thought you were going to sleep forever? Disproven as of now. I love you, whatever you gave up? Redundant, exposing. I don't want you to resurrect people anymore, because it scares me how helpless it makes you? Pointless and argumentative.

But Loki seems to know all of it even though it remains unspoken. He sits up, pulling his hand from Tony's grasp to cup Tony's face in his long, dark fingers, his red eyes scanning Tony's face as he leans in and presses their lips together. Tony rises to the touch, eagerly, and Loki laughs, a small, dry sound deep in his chest.

"I don't plan to makes a regular habit of it," Loki says. "And though you are not allowed to tell me what to do, this," he kisses Tony again, "buys you more leeway than you can know." He shivers, uncomfortable in his skin, and Tony reaches for him, pulling him close and kissing him everywhere, tracing the ridges of his shoulder with his tongue.

"I dunno," Tony murmurs, "I think I can know quite a lot." And he does know enough to know that he _doesn't_ , _can't_ , know how deeply his acceptance affects Loki. Tony doesn't really understand it, but he knows.

 

 

Tony decides not to try to hide Loki's presence from anyone, or what Loki really is. Namely, an alien. And his boyfriend. Before, all of Loki's disguises had seemed like a joke the two of them had been playing on the world- and, no buts about it, it had been hella fun. Tony hadn't felt like he was lying about anything, just not discussing the issue. And while he's still not offering information, he makes a conscious decision not to hide Loki.

All that is probably a contributing factor to Tony _not_ having a heart attack when Loki saunters into Tony's lunch with the governor a few days later. The governor is slightly affronted that this guy thinks he can just walk in on _his_ appointment, but Loki speaks flawless regional Arabic- and also apparently _Berber_ , which no one even actually speaks anymore- and the governor is utterly charmed by a story Loki tells about an event that happened here, centuries ago, that Loki claims to have been present for. Tony decides that at some point he's just going to have to learn Arabic.

And it's kind of refreshing, that the biggest problem about Loki coming out to the governor of Casablanca as an alien prince is that Tony might have to learn yet another language. He's not worried about SHIELD trying something stupid where Loki is concerned, and he's weirdly not worried about Loki killing anyone. For all that Tony loves him, he knows that Loki is not... human, not bound by the same standards. Loki has access to more power now than when he tried to invade Manhattan, and he could decimate any opposition the government brought against him should he wish to set himself up as ultimate ruler. The scariest thing about that is that Tony isn't sure if he would be counted in that opposition, or if he would be _helping_. He doesn't _control_ Loki, but Loki is like a targeted weapon that Tony can influence, guide as to what is shielded from the destruction; he can use that guidance to build the world a brighter future.  It's not an actual power he holds, but it is a heady thing.

 

T'Challa shows up to welcome Tony to the continent. He has some information to go over concerning Stark Industries' projects in the sub-Saharan region, particularly near Wakanda. Tony is just jazzed to have someone around to discuss the field testing of his teleporter with who can truly appreciate the mechanics of it. Tony really misses Bruce; he hopes SHIELD doesn't try anything stupid.

 

So he feels a little bad about it, because it kind of feels like going behind the guy's back, but Tony puts in a call to someone who knows a lot about being stupid where Bruce is concerned.

"I'd just appreciate it if you could give me a heads up if you hear of anything, you know, forming, in the direction of stupidity."

Betty Ross rolls her eyes. "What makes you think I know anything?"

"You don't talk to any friends from the old days, your dad's army buddies, business partners?"

She grinds her jaw. "You're one to talk."

Tony makes a flippant gesture. "I figured that's why I could get away with it?"

Her face relaxes into a smile, though it would probably be more accurately described as a grimace. "I don't keep in touch with anyone that stupid anymore," Betty says. "At least not on this continent." Tony makes a sound of protest but she waves it away. "But I will. Keep an eye on him." She sighs. "I don't..." She shakes her head. "For you, I'll keep an eye on him. You've really done a lot for me, Tony. I do appreciate it."

Tony's not a fan of displays of emotion, especially when they're happening on the other side of the Atlantic and he can't do anything about it. "Hey I said no strings, right? You don't owe me shit. But I would appreciate a heads up if things go green."

Betty nods, and they moved on to talking about antiviral packs and distribution.

 

Of course, SHIELD does try something stupid, but not in New York.

When it comes down to it Tony can't believe they actually try to pull the "bribe a security guard to not notice their operative sneaking in with the cleaning staff" shtick. The guard notifies Clint, who tells Tony he's handling it, though Tony's pretty sure everyone, including Natasha, is a bit surprised when the agent bites a tooth and dies in a foaming mess. It's a confirmation that SHIELD isn't actually running SHIELD anymore.

They finally decide to nail down a plan to go back to New York and fetch their alien tech from Storm. Natasha is still in contact with Fury, who's running his own small cadre of loyal SHIELD personnel, since the majority of SHIELD is now either defunct or Hydra. While they're in New York, Natasha figures she and Steve can run double cover- for both Tony's team and something Fury's up to- by blowing the shit out of a few Hydra bases. 

 

It's the same team flying out that flew into Casablanca a few months ago, though Tony's actually awake for this trip.

The plan is to let Tony and Loki off in Westchester to pick up the alien landing craft- Loki says he knows how to work the technology and Tony's certain he can figure out enough to fly the second craft- while Widow, Hawkeye, and Barnes just point Cap at a Hydra base and let it whither from the intensity of his disapproving look.

Tony thought that was pretty funny but Barnes shakes his head. "No. We're gonna use explosives. Lots of them." He smiles. It's not a pleasant expression, and Tony leaves them to their own planning- he has the siren call of advanced technology to answer.

 

When they arrive in Westchester, they find half the population of the school or so, just over twenty kids and four X-Men, sitting on the lawn in front of the craft. Storm looks at Tony with an expression that brokers no argument and says, "We are coming with you." All of the younger children currently at the school are orphans or their parents have legally given up any claim to them, so there's no one to contest them jumping the continent; the four full-fledged members coming along are all native Europeans returning to the correct side of the Atlantic, or, in Storm’s case, an American who spent most of her formative years on another continent. The older students will be staying, with Storm's teammates Scott and Emma running the school and maintaining a presence for the team.

So Tony doesn't argue- more because he had already offered this to Ororo, though he hadn't thought that it would be in a situation like this, than because he listens to people when they try to make him do things. That doesn't stop him from bitching, "You want to put all of those kids on an alien craft we're not even sure we can fly?" Loki scoffs behind him. He moves to open and start the farther craft.

Ororo locks eyes with Tony, and he remembers how she could stand toe to toe with a _god_ , and he feels a strange kinship. "I have every confidence in your ability," she says, then adds, "And if you have any trouble I'm sure Tessa can figure it out."

Tony laughs. "Yeah, you've got it handled."

She smiles thinly and, before she turns to converse with one of her people, she adds, "Get your spaceships off of my lawn."

Tony's still laughing when he enters the nearer craft. It's already open and buzzing. The race that built these thing was humanoid but apparently not in any way that's particularly useful because the pilot's seat looks exceedingly uncomfortable. When he glances around, Tony notices a young girl hovering in the corner trying to be invisible as she runs her hands possessively over what looks like a control board. He grins at her. "I bet you're Tessa." She looks like she's not sure if she should admit to it or not, but he waves her closer. "What do you think?" He gestures to the interface in front of the pilot's seat. She wordlessly points to a readout to his left. "Clever, clever," Tony murmurs.

Behind him, an illusory copy of Loki enters and says, "Ororo has finished distributing the children between the craft and we are ready to depart."

Tony nods. "Sit down and buckle up then, we are out of here." He doesn't have to look to know that Loki is rolling his eyes and he grins.

Tony eases up on the main lever, and the craft hums to life. "Try that one," he says to Tessa. She levels him a look at the word _try_ and flips the switch to turn on the propulsion system before adjusting the antigrav. They start to rise up in the air. Tony turns the craft so that he can see the second craft which Loki has hovering, waiting for them patiently.

Behind him, Loki's copy looks at Tessa. "If you need assistance-" he begins, but Tony cuts him off.

"Can it, alien boy. Me and Tessa got this."

While she shrank away from Loki's double, the girl straightens at Tony's words and her small hands on the controls move with more confidence. Tony looks at her sidelong; she has the unfinished look of pre-adolescence about her body but her face is sharp and her eyes never stop seeing everything. She watches the control board with love and avarice, but she watches how him and the illusory Loki move with the harsh truth of experience. Tony would guess that she's older than she looks, and that before Storm got ahold of her she was having a bad time of it. Tony rubs his chest absently; there's something unpleasant gnawing at him- he doesn't let himself think about it usually but kids tend to get the brunt of what's shitty about the world and he hates that- but he realizes that what he actually feels is that sensation fading into something warmer. He's helping Storm help these kids. That's a good thing.

 

When they get back to Casablanca, JARVIS informs him, "Sir, Captain Rogers' team is still engaged in, as Mister Barton put it, 'Hydra-stomping.' I do not expect them to return for several more hours. While you were out, King T'Challa arrived and is waiting to discuss specification on the Nigerian focused project."

Tony makes a face. "He knows Pepper handles all the details of the company projects, right?"

"Not _that_ project, sir."

"Oh." He'd forgotten that T'Challa had been interested in building on JARVIS' code for detecting where drug smugglers were stashing their cash. "Yeah, you let him know we're back, right?"

"Of course, sir. I believe he is en route to meet with you."

And as the roof landing platform descends, pulling the alien craft into the top floor hanger, Tony can see T'Challa just entering from the elevator side. He doesn't look too impressed with the alien vessels, but with T'Challa it's hard to tell sometimes.

Tony goes out to meet him, but finds himself upstaged.

T'Challa's glancing around the group of people exiting the two crafts, and does a serious double take when he sees Storm. "Ororo," he says, a hell of a lot more history in that word than Tony would have suspected. "It has been too long."

Storm stops to regard him fully, a fond smile spreading over her face. "The young warrior has grown up," she muses.

"Um, yeah he's king now," Tony puts in. He knows how to wingman.

But Ororo doesn't look terribly impressed with kingship statuses, instead more interested in renewing old acquaintances. Tony takes a raincheck on his and T'Challa's discussion; Tony's far more eager to dive into his new toys anyway.

 

Steve and his gang have apparently way too much fun blowing the shit out of Hydra. Of course, by the time they return to tell their tale, Tony's elbow deep in the dissected alien drive system, Tessa right next to him, her shorter arms in not quite as deeply but her thin fingers extremely deft. He's _far_ more interested in _that_ than exploding bits of Hydra, even when Clint teases him mercilessly.

"I think she's underage there Stark," is Clint's parting jab when nothing else gets a rise, and Tessa tenses sharply before she forces herself to relax, but she's still trembling.

Tony glares at him. "That's low, Birdbrain, even for you. Besides, you know I'm in a committed relationship."

Loki had slipped into the hanger behind Clint unnoticed, and he says, "So you are," practically in Clint's ear.

Clint jumps about a foot straight up off the floor. "Motherfucker!" he yells. "Alright, I give up, I am out, I'm leaving, shit!" He stalks out of the hanger, muttering to himself all the way.

Tessa giggles quietly. Tony grins at her. "Now that the plebeians are cleared out, let's get back to the good stuff, shall we?" He pulls out an energy crystal. It's trailing wires and tubes of glowing liquid. "What do you suppose this is made of?" he murmurs softly. He glances at Tessa and grins when he sees the same avarice on her face.

He thinks Loki sees it too, because, rather than trying to shoo the child off, he comes and looks down at them and answers the questions that Tony puts to him. He sounds bored, but he doesn't leave.

 

There's nothing like discovering new technology to get Tony's motor revving, and there's nothing quite like irritating Loki to the point of desperation with the need to _shut him up_ to get the delicious, velvet heat of Loki's cock filling his throat. Tony moans as Loki fucks his mouth, and Tony’s dizzy with the taste of him as he comes, and Tony moves up to kiss him, desperate to share that taste.

Tony is not the least bit close to being finished and he murmurs, "I want your lovely ass," as he bends one knee up to Loki's chest.

Loki grins his approval and his legs both move to pull Tony into position.

Tony laughs. "Not eager are we?"

Loki touches his chin, guiding him into a kiss. "For you, always."

A bit of the wild energy filling Tony melts from reckless heat into a warm fire that's banked deep within him. "Yeah," he murmurs, stealing another kiss.

 

It's much later, they're still in bed, Tony's breath not quite even yet, when he realizes that with all the flitting about and wandering off that Loki tends to do, he hasn't actually _met_ most of Storm's crew who’ve just moved in.

Loki's stretched out beneath him, his hips still bracketing Tony's as he cards his fingers through Tony's hair, and he asks, with a post-coital nonchalance he employs only rarely, "Ororo's companion, Wagner. What do you know of him?"

It takes Tony a minute. "Kurt? He's good people. Helped me and Bruce figure out how to design my teleporter, though you'd never know it to ask him- he still denies he knows _how_ he does what he does, though I guess it all comes out in the wash since my teleporter doesn’t exactly work the same way. He's Catholic, but I won't hold it against him." He means the last as a joke, but Loki's expression is serious, his gaze distant, and Tony leans up to brush his fingers along Loki's jaw to draw his focus back. "What did you _want_ to know about him?"

Loki shakes his head. “He is the only one I have not met before,” he says, which Tony’s pretty sure is bullshit because Sean Cassidy came with them to Casablanca as well, and he and Wagner were both absent from the Westchester battle kerfuffle, which is when Loki met most of the X-Men who hadn’t previously developed habits of hanging around Stark Tower. Tony thinks about it. There are a couple things he could guess that Loki would find interesting about Kurt Wagner, things that the two of them share- like the ability to teleport, which Loki has recently had curtailed, and being blue, which is something Loki still is not at ease with. One of the things Tony likes about Kurt is the way Kurt's comfortable in his own skin, and he thinks it would not be a bad thing if the two of them hung out a bit. But Tony has some experience in dealing with people- not that they're not hard as fuck to predict, give him robots any day- so he doesn't say any of that and instead makes a joke of it.

He squirms against Loki. "You know he's a genius with a rapier, swashbuckles like a pirate." He waggles his eyebrows. "Jealous? I’ve never gone for fur before, but-"

And Loki growls and cuts him off with a fierce kiss.

 

It's the alien energy crystals that give him the idea, or maybe he should credit the alien bird dude from that planet he and Loki visited, because the stonecloth material he gave Tony is fucking amazing and Tony has no idea how he made it work the guy is a _genius_ , but Tony thinks he can totally fix Loki's space-jumping problem.

"I mean, it should probably work. Here." he thrusts the stonecloth device at Loki eagerly. "Try it out."

Loki is regarding the awkward assemblage of cloth and metal with some skepticism. "And what is it supposed to do?"

"Really?" Tony demands. He pushes off his stool with a noise of disgust. "Here, like this." The stonecloth pulls over Loki's hands like gloves. Tony holds his fingers with one hand and turns his other hand to point out the features. "So you've got a gold-titanium framework on the outside bit, more gold than titanium actually," and he looks up, "you said it works better for transference," and he turns Loki's hand over to stroke a finger over his stonecloth covered palms. "And this bit of course, is for the collecting of the energy. Here is where you can put extra batteries." He pulls the crystals out of his pocket and, as Loki watches amused, he slips them into the pockets on the underside of each glove. "Tada! And now you can totally do shit. Like teleport far away, or whatever magic people call it when you jump around the universe without actually streaming particles through a base structure."

Loki's expression goes from vaguely amused through Tony's explanation to completely blank for a moment as realization hits, and the it fills with rising wonder. "Tony," he says softly. He raises his hands and flexes his fingers. A field of energy grows between his hands.

"See- if you remember Siler saying, which you should because you were the one translating for me- the base for the 'stonecloth' specifically works to gather energy, and not impede the transference thereof, so you get more bang for your buck as it were, without losing anything in the transfer process." Tony's aware that he's babbling a bit. "So it's like most of it's not even there, you just have this sort of net suspending an energy source, and it all depends on the energy source really, I mean I think so as far as distance or whatever but I could hit up Wagner again to talk specifics, I know he has trouble working against magnetic fields but that shouldn’t be a factor for you. I suppose it could be more stylish, I'll work that in the next redesign, but- Oh, hey you want some runes and shit? You like runes and shit. I can-"

Loki shuts him up the way he knows is best.

 

 

It's not like they're in hiding or anything, especially now that they're well established in Casablanca, so Tony is talking to Pepper at least once a week about company matters, and to Bruce maybe once a month to just touch base. Darcy prefers texting, and she and JARVIS have an understanding such that Tony usually knows more about what Darcy is doing any particular day than he does what's going on in his own city.

He gets the notice via JARVIS. "Sir, Ms Lewis wanted you to know that she is one thesis paper away from completing the coursework necessary for her degree and plans to arrive in Morocco precisely, and I'm quoting sir, 'as long after that as this shitbird you designed can fly us there,' end quote."

Tony laughs, but his humor doesn't last because he gets a call from Betty Ross about ten minutes later.

"You remember a few months ago, when we talked about things forming toward stupidity?" Betty asks.

Tony frowns. "Sort of. What's up?"

"Jane's on Darcy's update list, and I know JARVIS keeps you apprised as well, so you know Darcy turns in her final paper for her coursework today. Well, I have a contact that I only still talk to because of _you_ and what you wanted me to find out, and apparently Hydra knows she and Bruce are skipping town tonight."

"They're gonna try something." It's a question, but Tony's already tense, already looking over at his suits. Mark XIX isn't complete yet, but the XVIII field tested well, and would actually be perfect for this.

"If they weren't I wouldn't be calling." Betty frowns. "You have a plan?" she asks, and there is worry in her voice.

Tony shoots her a look of surprise. "Of course. Though what do you care?"

"Hey," she protests. "I... care about Bruce. Just because I also want to wring his neck a lot of the time doesn't mean that I don't." She looks away, but brings her gaze resolutely back to Tony. "You're going to protect him," she says, and it is not a question.

"I will," he promises. "Though for your own protection you probably don't want to know any details."

She huffs. "I think we're going to follow you," she says. "Jane's hit a wall with her research. We're planning a trip to Norway, maybe a few other places as well. We'll probably end up in Casablanca before we head back to the States, and if we do we might stay." She says it like she's sounding out the possibility.

"I'll build her a telescope," Tony says. "A huge, shiny one. Hey- a whole observation platform, in the desert, no light pollution. And I've already got a lab full of biochemists and microbiologists that would love to talk to you."

Betty grins at him. "With an offer like that, what are we still doing over here?"

 

Tony's first idea involves him and Loki sneaking in and giving Bruce and Darcy back up while they flee the country, leaving Hydra with nothing to shoot at but the quinjet's exhaust.

Of course he overestimates Loki's interest in his plan, and his level of giving a shit. "That sounds tedious," Loki observes. He's sitting in Tony's chair and not looking like he's planning on moving anytime soon.

Fortunately, they're having this conversation in the communal lab space, and the rest of the team waylays them.

"You're not the only one here who wants to protect Darcy," Betsy Braddock reminds Tony. "And if you're looking for backup, you've got plenty more willing hands than his Highness there."

"Of course, most of us are wanted fugitives in the good old US," Clint observes.

Betsy rolls her eyes. "Like we're going to be there long enough to get caught."

"Things could go wrong," Tony observes. "We could get stuck there." His original plan revolved around the energy magnification tech he developed for Loki and it hasn't been sufficiently field tested for him to put other people’s lives on the line with it.

"We don't leave people behind," Steve interjects resolutely. "If we know there is a plan for Hydra to move against Bruce and Darcy, then we need to act."

"Oh, easy for you to say, Spangles," Clint scowls. "They can't bag and tag you like the wanted fugitive you are without the entire country rising in revolt. Worst case scenario, you get blown up. Maybe Tony gets away with it, too. Rest of us, not so lucky."

Steve seems to be annoyed that Clint thinks death by explosion counts as lucky; Barnes looks like he's sitting on a joke he won't share because it's tasteless. Natasha looks like she already knows the joke; Loki still looks uninterested. Ororo is visiting Wakanda; Kurt is probably the only one present who doesn't have a strong opinion about coming along, government action notwithstanding.

"Guys, relax. This is totally going to work." Tony grins encouragingly.

Clint throws up his hands. "Okay, tell us how we're all going to bite it." Natasha flicks his ear with a finger.

"Well, my plan _was_ going to work, but if everyone wants to come we might need to rewrite some of it."

"I was thinking," Steve puts in, and when Tony gestures for him to continue he grins darkly. "Now that they're not hiding from SHIELD, Hydra has reestablished their old headquarters in the Alps. I was thinking a team could drop by and have a look while you go to New York, provide a rather significant distraction."

Natasha nods. "Hit them somewhere a bit meatier than an outpost, I like it."

"Oooh, that sounds fun." Betsy perks up. "Never mind, Stark, you're on your own."

"Actually," Tony leans back. "JARVIS, how's the BabyDaddy program coming?"

"The initial program is complete, sir. There are, of course, some bells and whistles I believe you wished to add but it is functional in its entirety."

Clint looks wary. "Do I want to know?"

Tony grins. "JARVIS made a baby!" He reaches over and flicks a jump drive plugged into an interface. "It's a limited AI, nothing super special, but if you can drop it in a Hydra facility it's programed to... well, basically eat all of their data and slag the computers."

Steve looks interested. "How much time does it need to work?"

"Preferably? Eight to twelve hours, undisturbed. Realistically? About twenty seconds."

"Why the huge disparity?"

"It'll wipe the drive of whatever facility where it's dropped in a couple seconds if it feels an attack directed toward it. But give it a few hours and it'll learn how to worm its way into every nook and cranny of the network and take it all down." He shrugs, and places the jump drive on the table.

"Okay, new plan." Steve leans over the table, looking eager. "Tony takes a team to assist Bruce and Darcy. I'll take a team to strike at Hydra HQ. And a third team with make the real drop at a different Hydra facility."

"It's gonna have to be quick if you want to hit them before they move on Bruce," Tony reminds him. And because he wants to hear what Steve has to say he asks, "How would you break it down, Cap?"

Steve grins. "How many people can you carry, with your teleporter?"

"Me plus three more probably, definitely at least two."

Steve nods. "And you, Loki?"

Loki has leaned forward, like this has finally gotten interesting. "I will take you to Austria," he says, and his words are matter-of-fact, his tone inarguable. "There is something there that is of interest to me." He flexes his hands and examines them distantly. "I can move a quinjet vessel and its contents to that place by the time that you need, but I will not be able to assist you with any fighting afterward."

Steve doesn't look like that will be a problem, and he says, "We'll handle the fighting. Tony, I figure you should take Hawkeye with you." He glances between the two of them. "That still leaves you with enough room with the teleporter for both Bruce and Darcy in case something happens and you have to bug out without the quinjet."

Tony nods, and shoots Clint a sardonic grin.

"You better hope I get blown up," Clint mutters.

Steve looks at Kurt next. "Nightcrawler, you would be most helpful I think making the final drop."

Kurt is leaning against the wall between Barnes and Betsy, and he looks at Steve, startled. "I am not opposed," he says, "but I cannot teleport long distances without detriment. I’m assuming you want me to do this at a base in the United States, yes? I will need to be much closer. And you are aware as well, I hope, that I cannot teleport anyone with me?"

"I don't like to send you in alone," Steve temporizes. "Is there any way around that?"

Kurt shakes his head. "It would exhaust both myself and my passenger."

"I have something that might help with that." Tony digs through a couple drawers and finds what he was looking for. "It's a portable JARVIS," he explains, "But without, you know, the whole suit. He's not biological, obviously, so he shouldn't be affected by your teleporting, and he can have your back."

"I need to have seen where I'm going as well," Kurt says, amused, as he takes the device Tony hands him and fits it around his wrist.

Tony snaps his fingers and grins. "Got that covered, too. So, Hydra's all up in SHIELD's business, right? Well, Fury took me to one of their bases not too long ago. I was messing around in the ventilation, so that should give you a good place to drop in; it shouldn't have changed any, and there isn't likely to be anyone there. If our resident telepath wants to take a peek at the place in my mind, she can give you the image, right?"

Betsy rolls her eyes but can't hide the grin pulling at the corner of her mouth. "Your brain is filthy, Stark," she complains. "But, yes."

Kurt grins, his tail lashing in excitement. "When do we leave?"

 

 

So that's how Tony ends up with one arm around Clint Barton- who is swearing more filthily in his ear than anyone Tony has ever heard, he's actually kind of impressed- and the other around Kurt Wagner- who is either chastising or mocking Clint in German and laughing at him at the same time.

They appear in Tony's old penthouse in New York. The room is dim, everything shut down, but the same sunset that Tony saw several hours ago is setting behind the cityscape outside the window and Tony laughs. "It's like the most useless kind of time travel ever."

No one is particularly impressed by his observation. Clint is already moving toward the elevator. Kurt steps away from them both and closes his eyes for a moment, Tony would assume checking his destination, before he opens his eyes and grins at them. “ _Viel Glück_ ,” he says, and vanishes in a puff of brimstone scented smoke.

Tony follows Clint to the elevator. "I'll handle transport, " Clint says.

Tony nods. "I'll get our passengers. JARVIS?"

JARVIS opens the elevator and Clint and Tony step in. "Doctor Banner is currently in his quarters. Ms Lewis is still in Upper Manhattan. I have an update on Captain Rogers' mission; they have engaged the enemy. Additionally, Nightcrawler has arrived safely at his destination."

Tony steps out of his suit and rubs his hands. "Excellent. Take up down."

"Sir," JARVIS interrupts on the tail end of Tony's words. "You have an incoming call from Ms Lewis."

"Put her through." Tony frowns; Darcy's not much for talking on the phone, she usually texts.

"Tony?" Darcy sounds like she’s somewhere extremely windy, and she doesn't even wait for his response before she goes on, "I know you're literally on the other side of the ocean, but I may have gotten into a little trouble. Nothing I can't handle, right? But I need you to make sure they don't use this to hurt Bruce."

Tony can hear gunfire behind her, and someone swearing. The elevator has arrived at the hanger, and he only has to lock eyes with Clint briefly before they both nod and Clint's jogging across the open area toward the quinjet and Tony's back in the elevator on his way to Bruce.

"Darcy," he says calmly, "I'm in New York. I'm about two minutes from Bruce, so don't worry about him. Stay safe, okay? Clint's on his way to get you. What's happening?"

He hears her take in a deep breath. "Okay. Okay, good. I, um, they were going to grab me when I walked out of the building, but Kate warned me so we got away. We, um, stole her dad’s boat? And I think that’s Mill Rock? Or something, it’s full of birds. I’m not sure-" Something explodes on Darcy's end just as the door opens on Bruce's level.

Bruce looks up. "Tony?" he says in surprise. "What are you doing here? We were just..." He stops because he can hear Darcy swearing over the speaker in Tony's suit before the line goes fuzzy. His face drains of color and he inhales quickly.

Tony throws himself at Bruce, cupping his hands behind Bruce's head, pulling Bruce's face to his. This was why he'd wanted to have the suit off for this, because he knew he was going to need as much personal contact as he could get to make himself be heard. "Bruce," he says, "She is _fine_. Okay? She’s somewhere near the East River, and I'm gonna take us _right to her_ , but I _need_ you to not be huge, okay? Do some conservation of mass calculations and calm down, because we're going to be there _very soon_." He waits until Bruce nods at him, shortly, then Tony steps back, into his suit. "JARVIS?"

"Already calculating destination, based on call location. I assume you’d like to be placed on the nearest solid land?"

Tony doesn’t really want to hear that. "Yes, but as close as possible." He grabs Bruce by the shoulders. They flicker and before he knows it they've moved from Midtown up to the north end of Manhattan.

So Tony’s not really familiar with anything north of 79th Street, but he’s pretty sure the busy roadway behind them is FDR Drive and the island, with the burning wreck of a boat not far from it, in front of them is Mill Rock. Bruce is shrugging out of his grip with a growl and diving toward the water.

Tony rises up to hover, taking a wider look around. "J, where is she?"

"I am having trouble locating the signal from Ms Lewis' phone."

Hulk yells, and Tony refocuses to see a Hydra helicopter is letting off agents on the island. Hulk has made landfall and is charging toward them, scaring up birds as he goes.

"I'm on your six," Clint says on his comm, and JARVIS brings up the image without Tony having to turn to confirm.

"I can't find Darcy," Tony says as he completes a circle of the island, and he's getting worried.

"I’ve got something," Clint says. “Your eleven, edge of the water.”

Tony pulls his attention away from Hulk bowling through Hydra agents like ten pins to fly down by the waterline. There's a large outcropping where an ambitious bird has built an enormous haystack of a nest, and crawling ashore beside it is a dark-haired woman, pulling another dark-haired woman out of the water behind her. Tony lands beside them.

The first woman whirls to face him, pulling herself to her feet quickly, her face intent and her hands already raised to fight before she realizes who he is. The woman lying at her feet, who suddenly rolls over and starts coughing water, is Darcy.

Tony retracts the helmet. "You must be Kate," he says to the first woman.

She is looking at him warily, but she says, "Darcy, I think your boyfriend noticed you got blown up." Hulk roars as if to underscore her words.

And Darcy is pulling herself to her feet, clinging to Kate, and swearing, "Shit, shit, shit, Tony how are you here? I need to show him I'm fine, shit." She tries to step toward Tony and almost falls over. Tony gets an arm around her, but there’s a boat in the river that spots them and it must be a Hydra vessel broadcasting their location, because black clad agents start pushing through the underbrush.

Tony's got his helmet back up and he wraps his other arm around Kate, lifting all of them off the ground. "Clint? Incoming."

"Door's open," Clint responds, and Tony flies up to the quinjet to deposit both young women inside. He flicks one of the gauntlets away, the fingers too thick to grasp the handles, before he opens a cabinet and tosses towels at both Darcy and Kate. Kate rubs hers through her soaking wet hair, but Darcy only brushes it over her face once before she turns back to Tony.

"Take me down to him," she says. She's got little bruises and cuts all over her from the boat explosion, but her face is determined. "He's just worried about me, I can get him to calm down," she argues, like she really needs to explain it to him.

Tony grins. "I know. But taking you down there where people are trying to kill you is not going to help him calm down."

"They don't want to kill me," she says, and she looks _pissed_. "They think they can use me to _control_ him." She balls up the towel and throws it away, walking toward the still open tailgate of the quinjet. Tony grabs hold of her, but she struggles and yells, "Hulk! I'm up here, and I'm fine!" She growls under her breath when it doesn't look like he can hear her.

Something explodes beneath them, and a large, green, smoky cloud engulfs Hulk. Darcy is pounding on Tony's chestplate and he passes her to Kate. "Stay _here_ ," he admonishes her, and he tips out the back of the quinjet to see what's going on.

The smoke is thick and he has trouble seeing at first. He hears a massive _clap_ , which is apparently Hulk clearing the air because the air does start to clear far more quickly. Tony pops any Hydra goons he sees until he's back near Hulk. Hulk growls, but he feeds a giant knuckle sandwich to a guy who sneaks up behind Tony and Tony takes the opportunity to reach out to Hulk and catch his attention. "She's fine," he says. "Darcy is fine, okay? She's up in the quinjet, with Clint."

Hulk takes a deep breath and something in him eases. But he does not look done, not by a long shot. "Hydra not allowed to hurt Darcy," he says, and he _looks_ at Tony, as if challenging him to disagree.

"No one is allowed to hurt Darcy," Tony tells him. "The whole team agrees. They're infiltrating Hydra HQ to give you some cover. So beat up whatever Hydra goons you want to, because they're not getting any backup."

And even as they're talking Tony notices that the helicopter is hanging back, some of the Hydra minions he can see seem to be having very intense conversations over their comms, and the flood of people shooting things at Hulk has trailed off to a trickle. Of course Hydra can’t bow out like any reasonable terrorist organization, and the helicopter fires some kind of massive missile at Hulk.

"Hulk," he says, but he needn't have bothered.

Hydra fires the thing right at them, which has Tony gritting his teeth because they may be on an island just off the edge of it but they're still a stone's throw from fucking Manhattan and he is sick of people trying to blow it up. Tony dodges left- away from the blast center- but Hulk runs toward it, meeting the missile early and punting it straight up in to the air. It goes soaring up into the stratosphere, before losing steam and falling east, Queens-ward, and into the River. Hulk dives in after it with a growl.

Tony is watching Hulk, trying to track his direction, and so he doesn't notice that people are shooting at him until he notices an arrow go soaring back past him as return fire. They've got what they came for, and so Tony flies up to the quinjet to find Kate kneeling by the open hatch, fitting another arrow to Hawkeye's bow.

He retracts his helmet. "Clint know you're playing with his toys?"

She snorts at him and sights down the arrow. "You're welcome, jackass." She lets fly, and this one must have been an explosive round because the Hydra helicopter suddenly has a small problem with being on fire and not being able to maintain altitude. Kate smiles in satisfaction.

Darcy is behind her, actually sitting down on the bench. She looks tired. Tony sheds his armor, sending it back out with JARVIS to fly alongside them, and he closes the rear hatch. He goes to sit beside Darcy. "Hey."

She shakes her head. "I'm worried about him. You said not to, and I know he's-" She inhales. "How did you get here so fast?" she changes the subject.

"Teleporter."

"Star Trek?" Kate puts in skeptically. She's sitting on the bench across from them, still holding Clint's bow.

"Not quite. It's a pretty delicate mechanism, can only get two or three good uses out of it before it burns out." He's proud of his tech, but a little jealous of people who can teleport far more easily. Speaking of. He calls toward the cockpit, "Clint, update on the other teams?"

They must be out, over the Sound already, because as Clint turns his chair toward them Tony can see a wide spread of water through the windshield, JARVIS handling the autopilot. "Kurt was in and out, everything appears successful. He’s laying low in a safe house with LeBeau."

Tony nods. "We can stop by and get him," he offers.

Clint shrugs. "JARVIS says he says he’s fine for a bit." Clint swivels back to check his display. "Steve's still wrecking shit. Loki went AWOL the moment they touched down, so I guess he'd off doing his own thing." The mention of Loki makes Clint's face scowl, but it's almost a reflex, there's no real hostility behind it. Something on the panel beeps and Clint reaches toward it. "JARVIS' got a hit on your boy, Darcy."

She stirs from her seat, and goes forward to check it out, as if pulled unwillingly. There's another beep, and Clint starts to slow their pace to match it with JARVIS’.

Darcy looks at Tony. "You sent JARVIS out to look for him," she says.

Tony nods. "Hulk can take care of himself, but that doesn't mean he has to." She's not really a superhero so he doesn't blame her for maybe wondering, and he comes out and says it. "Darcy, we don't leave people behind."

She nods. "I know. I do. I just-" She shakes her head.

 

They pause and hover for a moment and Tony opens the rear hatch. JARVIS flies in with one arm around a sopping, chagrined Bruce. The quinjet isn't exactly a large space but Tony and Kate move toward the front, ceding the rear to Darcy as she attacks Bruce with towels and they talk to each other softly.

"Hey." Clint narrows his eyes at Kate, finally noticing. "That's my bow."

"She's not bad with it," Tony observes.

"Not _bad_?" Kate shoots a glare at him. "I kick _ass_."

Clint is also looking displeased. "It's _my_ bow."

They continue to bicker, mostly good-naturedly, on the way back to Casablanca.

They're not far off the coast when Loki pops in without warning.

"Motherfucker," Kate yells, raising the bow.

Loki looks unimpressed. "Another one?"

Tony leans into him. "I collect misfits, you know."

Loki grins.

 

The hanger is getting a little crowded- Tony really should move his project, the dissected alien vessel, down to one of the labs instead, it takes up the most room- but they manage to squeeze the quinjet in next to its fellows.

Tony opens the rear hatch. He jumps down to the floor of the hanger and turns to hold his hand out to Bruce. "Welcome home," he says with a grin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soundtrack listing: "Why Don't We Do It in the Road?" is a Beatles' song written and sung by Paul McCartney, though the version I prefer is sung by Dana Fuchs on the _Across the Universe_ soundtrack.


	11. We’ll Be Moving On and Singing That Same Old Song

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Barnes is confused when Steve lies to him about something he claims to remember, and Steve gets zapped by a villain.

**Location:** Universe YOSLY, Designation: Delta  
_Stark Tower_  
_Casablanca, Morocco_  
3 years pre-anomaly

So, the world is a bit overwhelming in its entirety, but he's dealing with it, and things are pretty good.

Sometimes, they're better than good.

Barnes groans. He's fucking Steve into the mattress, Steve a mess beneath him, and he's looking for that sweet spot- the one that when his cock hits it, Steve comes without a touch. He knows he's found it when Steve's whine hits a slightly higher, more intense note, and Steve's voice breaks on his name. Barnes grins and sets to fucking him harder, Steve moaning on every jerky exhale, and Steve comes first, with a gasp, his body twitching against Barnes' hold on his hips.

But Barnes isn't far behind him, coming in what feels like the next instant, hips jerking against Steve's as he presses closer, his face pressed to the back of Steve's neck.

As the tension slowly leaves him, he's mouthing soft kisses along the length of Steve's neck, and down his shoulder, and back up over his ear. Steve says a blissed, "Jeez, Buck," his voice filled with a soft wonder.

Barnes grunts, reminded of something.

Steve has told him that he has a particular grunt when he's caught in a memory, and so Steve turns his head and tries to help him out. "Do you remember," he says, voice still dreamy, "that double date you set us up on that one year the night before my birthday? We took those girls dancing. Jeannie, I think and- she had red hair, but I can't think of her name, the other girl. In the dance hall, you were spinning her around, she was laughing, and I was so jealous. I know you said we had to keep up appearances, but I hated it. I left poor Jeannie sitting at our table and I ran as far away from you as I could get. Somehow I found a door that let me back behind the stage, and I hid in the rafters above the band. That was where you found me." He turns his head further, seeking Barnes' lips, and Barnes meets him. He thinks he remembers the next part of the story, and he lays over Steve, hips moving against him in encouragement as his cock softens inside Steve.

Steve's eyes flutter and he swallows. "Not sure how you did it, customers weren’t supposed to be able to get back there, and it was so loud I couldn’t hear myself think. I wasn't even mad anymore, I kissed you, I just wanted you to be there with me. And you pressed me up against the wall and you fucked me there. God, I was so hot for you." Barnes' hips buck against him again, and Steve's breathing picks up a bit before he drifts back into the story. "And afterward we snuck out a window and took the fire escape up to the roof. We danced, under the stars, just the two of us. God, I love you so much Bucky."

And Barnes stills. He doesn't remember that part, the dancing. He should remember that. Right? He remembers Steve having asthma, along with a host of other ailments; physical exertion like dancing, enclosed spaces filled with smoke and perfume, that together was not a good combination. Come to think of it, the whole night sounds like kind of an asshole move on his part. No wonder Steve had been pissed. Barnes remembers, vaguely, being frustrated that Steve had loved him to the exclusion of common sense, and then dragging him out with those girls. "Meredith," he says, out of nowhere. He hadn't remembered the other girl, but the one with the red hair- "Her name was Meredith. She reminded me of you."

Steve moves beneath him, and Barnes rolls off of him. He only really thought about it after he said it- because he's used to grabbing at whatever his mind offers him and worrying about how it affects other people later- but that was, firstly, not the most important thing to remember about that night and, secondly, not the greatest thing to say aloud.

"Yeah," Steve says, kind of shortly. He's rolled himself up to a seated position and he's looking back at Barnes with an unreadable look on his face. Barnes wants to say something, but he's still trying to reach for the rest of that memory- because dancing with Steve sounds like a good memory, he wants that one- and so he doesn't manage any words before Steve sort of smiles and rises from their bed. There is sweat drying on his skin and spunk sliding down his legs, and Barnes reaches for him, ready to pull him back and try again for the memory that doesn't seem quite real.

"Excuse me, Captain Rogers," JARVIS says, and Steve jumps and blushes, still unnerved that anyone, even a not-real-person like JARVIS, might intrude on their private moment.

Steve clears his throat, already moving more quickly for the bathroom. "Um, yes JARVIS?"

"Apologies; I was trying not to interrupt. Ms Munroe would like to speak with you at your earliest convenience."

And Barnes falls back to lie on the bed. Steve's as good as gone now, in the shower and off to talk to Ororo, his mind on something else. Barnes thinks that's the problem with people whose minds work; they're so much better at moving on, while Barnes is still stuck in this half-a-memory.

The first problem is that the thing Barnes was sort of remembering and the memory that Steve shared are not the same thing. Barnes was remembering the first time he'd made Steve come without touching him: it'd been during the war, up against the wall of a supply depot, the Howlers not twenty feet and two rooms away, and Steve had sunk his teeth into Bucky's arm to keep from screaming, and he'd come so pretty, his face like something out of a dream, and Bucky had followed him, his face pressed against Steve's hair, whispering with desperate wonder, "Oh, _fuck_ , Stevie." Barnes touches his right hand to his left forearm; Steve had bitten his left arm. They couldn't do that now. But then, there's no reason now for Steve to have to be quiet.

And then there's the memory that Steve shared with him. Barnes remembers that night, parts of it, but he does _not_ remember dancing with Steve on the roof. It nags at him, because he _should_ remember that. It sounds amazing. But he has no memories of dancing. Not with Steve. He knows how to dance. He danced with lots of dames. They weren't what he wanted; even before Steve had made his move, Bucky had known he didn't like any dames the way he liked Steve. Being charming with women had been expected, and he'd needed _something_ to keep his mind off of Steve- off the way he smelled, the pale milk white of his skin and yellow fluff of his hair, the fire that burned blue in his eyes in a way that was too strong for his body to handle. If he'd danced with Steve that's something he'd damn well remember.

Barnes eventually hauls himself grumbling out of bed and takes his own shower. He's late for his meeting with Braddock.

 

The problem of the memory still won't leave him alone. It's the middle of their session, and Barnes can't concentrate. He's sitting across from Braddock, who has her legs folded into a pretzel shape that Barnes would never have thought of attempting on his own, but finds himself imitating easily after her example. Her head is leaned back slightly on her neck, her eyes closed and her hands resting easily on her knees as she breathes, slowly and evenly.

Barnes sighs loudly.

Braddock opens her eyes to slits.

He shrugs. "Not in the mood to meditate," he says. "Sorry. I can leave, if you want some quiet."

She shakes her head. "These sessions are to benefit _you_."

Barnes blinks. He hadn't realized their biweekly meetings were solely for his benefit; he'd thought it was more of a mutual _hey I could use some quiet time away from idiots_.  He scowls. "You don't have to do shit for me."

She unfolds herself from her pretzel. "You do shit for your friends," she counters, "and that's how you know who your friends are."

Barnes sighs again, because she's right.

If they're not going to meditate, Braddock apparently decides to get in some yoga, and she's folding herself in half as she asks, her elbows on the floor between her knees, "What's on your mind?"

Barnes pauses. The subject matter is intimate and he can be as bad as Steve about wanting to share moments like that. Conversely, Braddock is probably the only person he could talk to about it. He trusts her, and she has a complete lack of shame; the latter probably comes from spending your life in other people's heads.

"I think Steve lied to me."

She looks up, eyebrows raised in shock. "Why would he do that?"

Barnes grunts and shakes his head. "He would if he thought it would protect me, but this isn't..." He trails off, not sure of his words.

Braddock doesn't push, either for verbal continuation or to try to take the problem directly from his mind. She's usually more reserved with him than she is with others when it comes to using her telepathic powers; they've discussed his dislike of having other people in his head, and she's respected his stated desire for her to wait for his invitation and declare herself before attempting anything of that nature. So right now she's doing more yoga, waiting for him to continue whenever he's ready.

"He says he remembers something," Barnes manages finally. "I only remember the first half of the night. There's nothing, not even a fragment of what he said, I-" Barnes breaks off, frustrated.

"What's the first part of the evening that you _don't_ remember?" Braddock says, and it's a familiar leading. She's helped him through tangled memories before.

"He says we went up on the roof. It was July; it would have been warm. But I don't-" He growls, and says instead, "I remember going out earlier that evening. There were these two dames, we went dancing. He got mad, and I had to look for him, hunt him down."

Braddock grins. "You found him," she says mildly, her expression revealing that she _knows_ what happened next.

"Yeah." Barnes lets the grin spread over his face, but then it fades. "He says after that I took him up on the roof and we danced, just the two of us." His fists clench. "But it's not anywhere."

Braddock frowns. "Maybe there are some things you just don't remember," she rejoins. "There's a lot of scar tissue in your brain."

Barnes scowls. He remembers all of the _bad_ things; if this is real, why is it _this_ that his mind withholds from him? But he shakes his head, because he _knows_ it isn't real. "Everything else, I have at least a fragment. At least something that lets me know I was there even if I can't remember it all, or don't want to. But I don't remember the roof of the dance hall. I don't remember dancing with Steve at all."

"Wow, Steve Rogers, paragon of all things perfect, is a dirty rotten liar," she muses.

Barnes glares at her, his hands tensing. "Don't say shit about him," he warns her, but he huffs out a breath. "I can't stop thinking about it."

"Well." Braddock sits with her legs crossed normally, elbows resting on knees, chin cupped in her hands as she regards him. "I can go in and poke around a bit, if you want me to. Try to look for the memory."

Barnes shakes his head. "You think I haven't tried? It's not there."

"I didn't mean you."

Barnes tenses and before he can stop himself he has his left hand wrapped around her wrist. "Don't you _dare_. If you hurt him I will _kill you_ ," he hisses.

She regards him levelly, but with his hand around her wrist he can feel her pulse racing. It's not until a moment later that he sees her other hand is tensed in automatic response, psychic knife ready.

He forces himself to let go of her. "Sorry."

"No, I'm sorry." Braddock rubs her wrist. "I wanted to push a little, to see where you're at in your head, because I've never seen you _this_ agitated about something. So if I got what I was pushing for, you shouldn't be the one who's sorry." She smiles.

He'll give her this: she always knows when something's her fault and has no trouble owning it. Conversely, she is not shy about telling Barnes when he's being a shit. It's a refreshing change from Steve, who likes to think everything bad is his fault, or even Stark, who likes to pretend everything _isn't_ his fault even as he's trying to fix it. Barnes rests his hands on his knees, tries to will them to relax. "So, what should I do?"

"Take Steve dancing," is Braddock's easy response. "Then you'll have the memory. And maybe while you're doing it you can ask Steve why he'd lie about something like that."

Barnes glares at her. She's obviously missed the entire point of the discussion.

She grins, unrepentant.

 

 

The next morning, Barnes wakes to sunlight warm on his face, the too-soft sheets whispering against his skin, and Steve kissing his way over Barnes' hip.

Barnes hums, letting Steve know he's awake, and his right hand comes down to tangle in Steve's hair.

Steve grins up at him. "Good morning."

Barnes grins back sleepily. "You gonna use that mouth for something?"

Steve’s grin widens. "Was waiting to make sure you were awake," he says before turning and burying his face in Barnes' groin, kissing and licking his cock into wakefulness with an energy Barnes finds almost appalling this early in the day. Barnes' body drifts toward full alertness with less complaint with his cock in Steve's mouth.

Steve hums, his jaw dropping lower as he tries to fit more of Barnes down his throat. Barnes murmurs a response, his fingers tightening in Steve's hair; his left hand is spread out over the bed beside them. His hips move up against Steve, and Steve's hands are pulling him closer, eagerly.

"Goddamn, Stevie," he moans, and shudders. "You're so fucking good at that, now you can breathe proper."

Steve has to pull back because he starts laughing. He comes up and kisses Barnes, his mouth red and hot and swollen and all eager for him. "Bucky," he says, his voice low and hoarse. "Goddamn, Bucky." He's nibbling his way down Barnes' throat, his hand taking over his mouth's previous duties lower down, and Bucky lets his own hand fall to Steve's shoulder, pulling him closer, pulling him into the kiss. His left hand comes up to pull Steve against him, his right hand falling again, all the way to Steve's groin, fisting his cock through the boxers he's still wearing.

Steve makes a noise against him that makes Barnes shiver. Steve's kiss is fierce, but then he's pulling away again. "Can't be any good if I don't finish you, Buck," he says solemnly, his eyes grinning.

Barnes grins in return. He's pressing his lips to every part of Steve he can still reach as he pulls away, and he keeps Steve's right hand, his own left hand curled around Steve's wrist, and presses his face into Steve's palm, painting the skin with kisses.

Steve shivers. "Bucky," he murmurs, half arousal, half protest, his cheek resting on Barnes' thigh as he pants with desire. But he girds himself and wraps his lips around the head of Barnes' cock with purpose.

Barnes groan softly, his hips stuttering up toward the feel of Steve even as he tries to remain still. He has Steve's hand pressed to his face as he speaks words into it and Steve's fingers curl around his jaw. His right hand returns to Steve's head, tangling reassuringly in his hair, not trying to direct or control but desiring a continuation of touch in as many places as possible.

He comes down Steve's throat, which is a nice place to come, and Steve is moaning with the pleasure of it, popping up a moment later to kiss Barnes, the bitter taste of Barnes still on his tongue. Barnes makes a face, but he kisses Steve more fiercely.

Barnes reaches his right hand down inside Steve's boxers until he finds Steve's own weeping cock, and he jerks him, with just the slight bit of burn that Steve loves. Steve's breath catches, and he moans brokenly against Barnes' mouth as his hips press his cock further into Barnes' tight grip.

There are a couple different techniques he can use to have Steve coming fairly quickly, but all Barnes can think about is that supply depot, Steve's teeth sinking into his arm so desperately, the soft, broken sound Steve had made as he'd come, and Barnes turns his head and sinks his teeth into Steve's upper arm.

Steve chokes above him, and comes, hard, his spunk painting over Barnes' chest. The strength goes out of his arms momentarily in surprise, and Steve collapses on top of Barnes.

"Shit, Bucky," he breathes, and he turns his face, seeking Barnes’, expression equal parts bliss and worry. "You okay?"

Barnes wants to grin and say yeah he's fine, but he can't. He grunts and flips Steve off of him with little effort, Steve too boneless to protest. And he's leaning over Steve now, Steve looking up at him openly, and Barnes traces his thumb over the swell of Steve's lower lip, slipping his hand up to cup Steve's cheek. He doesn't notice at first that it's his left hand, because he's leaning on his right side, but Steve doesn't seem to have noticed either. He's looking up at Barnes, the worry starting to edge out the bliss, and Barnes kisses him to make it go away. "Yeah," he says after. "I'm okay."

Steve's hand reaches for him, holding him close. "You've been real quiet," he says leadingly.

And Barnes nods. Yes, he's been quiet. Yes, he really is okay.

Steve looks at him, but he kisses Barnes back. Steve's kiss is a bit more lingering, like he knows that Barnes isn't _really_ okay and he wants to fix it but he doesn't know how. Barnes wants to say, _You lied to me. I know you don't remember something I know never happened._ But he can't bring the accusation yet. Steve is many things, but he's not someone who lies maliciously, so Barnes has to figure this out.

 

 

Over the year they've been in Morocco, they've gathered not a small bit of bad blood from the several agencies Steve has tried to work with but been unwilling to toe the company line for, which has led to the occasional blowout with Stark. It annoys Steve, but Barnes is observant enough to notice that Stark just likes being ostentatious about things sometimes- the yelling matches he gets into with Steve don't actually mean anything to him, it's just to appease whatever higher up Steve pissed off by making them feel like Steve's been chastised, and Stark's usually on Steve's side in whatever issue it is anyway. It usually ends with someone sidetracking the two of them with a different problem. Barnes is pretty sure JARVIS keeps an eye out for such situations developing and directs someone toward them who can distract Stark. It's only really developed into something serious twice, so Barnes isn't sure what would happen if he wasn't there to divert Steve- by dragging him into another room and throwing him up against a wall, Barnes' knee between his legs; whatever Steve is mad about fades pretty quick to the background, and he gets that hitch in his breath that makes Barnes want to press a hand to his chest to check his lungs... and it proceeds from there. Barnes usually has to put up with Steve making catty remarks at Stark for a few days afterward. Stark had aggravated Steve right back the first time, so after the second time it happened Loki took Stark and they vanished for about a week. Barnes still finds Loki on the freaky side, but he has to admit it really helped Steve get his head out of his ass quicker to have Stark gone.

So the Avengers have continued to be functioning independently of review, and on multiple continents. Potts started her own team, operating out of California, and there's an affiliate branch that's more X-Men focused based on some island in Scotland.

One of the better things about Stark is the army of lawyers his company fields and the seriously amazing shit they can do. They got Barnes declared a POW, instead of MIA presumed dead, and completely off the hook as far as legal repercussions for everything he did while mind controlled. And he didn't have to do _anything_ for it. Well, he gave his permission for Stark to share some recordings JARVIS took of him, that was it. JARVIS assured him he didn't record anything _personal_ anyway, and it had felt fucking novel to get a choice about whether or not people got to stare at him. He'd laughed about it, but Steve hadn't been quite as amused.

Steve has been... good, but complicated. Barnes has everything he's ever wanted- the freedom to stop in the middle of the fucking street if he wants and just pull Steve to him and kiss him. All it cost him was decades of being the worst person on the planet just because he wasn't allowed to remember _being a person_. He wouldn't say it was worth it, but he's not gonna complain, not now. Steve, on the other hand... Sometimes Steve is fine. Great even. They're together again, and Barnes knows that Steve still loves him to the exclusion of common sense. But sometimes, Steve gets hit a little hard by the fact that the world never really changes. There's still shiteating dudes spouting their shitmaking agendas; it doesn't matter if they can't peel off their face and be a fucking red-faced dude underneath, they're still just as bad. There's still people who don't have enough food or clean water dying in silence, and still people yelling at the top of their lungs that _they_ don't have _enough_ of whatever shiny thing they think they need. It doesn't hit Barnes quite as hard, but he sees it, too.

So he's not surprised when, in the middle of his own personal crisis, Steve tells him about Ororo asking for their help.

Steve needs to _do_ things. Barnes knows that.

"So what do you say, Buck? Wanna give her a hand?"

He could say no.  But he knows if he does Steve will just go do it anyway. Barnes gets a nervous, shivery feeling under his skin at the thought of Steve doing dangerous things by himself.

He could make a joke about not having any to spare, but he knows Steve'll either laugh and feel guilty about it, or skip right to feeling guilty; he'll tell Braddock later, she'll like it.

So he says, "Okay."

 

They meet with Ororo and Braddock to get the low down on her trouble.

Ororo looks concerned as she brings up the images on JARVIS' screen. "The problem is this man. His name is Amahl Farouk." Her lip curls. "He is the head of a crime syndicate with a growing focus on human trafficking. His headquarters is here," JARVIS shows a photo, "in Cairo."

Steve was always good at reading people and he's leveling a look at Ororo. "You've had dealings with him before."

Ororo pauses. "Yes," she says, and she's suddenly very carefully not looking at Braddock.

Steve moves his own gaze to Braddock. She sighs. "Yeah." She obviously _wants_ to say more, but the words are caught in her throat. Steve reaches over to lay a hand over hers and squeeze it gently. Braddock looks up at him and smiles weakly before she clears her throat and looks away.

Ororo moves the briefing on to give Braddock time to recover. "Farouk used to be relatively low key, mostly preying on orphans and... shall we say lost souls." Her face is grim. "My own history with him is... perhaps inexplicable in its entirety, but suffice to say that he entered my mind and attempted to use my powers against me."

Steve stills. "He's a telepath?'

"Among other things," Braddock says unhappily.

"However," Ororo pretty much ignores their interruption, "he has stepped up his organization and has started attacking villages and stealing their children. This is what alerted us to the fact that he's still alive." The image now is of a village in the shadow of a mountain. Many of the buildings are burned black and there are several fresh graves. "This is the village of my mother's people. He stole all of the children and many of the young men and women; any who fought his men were killed." Her eyes are hard and white. "I have heard that he is paying particular attention to the children, searching for any with mutant abilities he can manipulate."

Barnes feels something in his arm tighten and realizes he's making a fist under the table. Children would be easier to manipulate than a grown adult; they wouldn't need complicated brainwashing to get them to do things they wouldn't want to do. "How do we stop him?"

Braddock looks slightly happier about discussing this part. "Because he can hear us coming, and he's a paranoid son of a bitch, we haven't been able to get the drop on Farouk so he always slithers away. But, if we have someone who can move fast enough, I can, theoretically, shield them telepathically for a long enough time." She glances between Steve and Barnes. "That's where super soldiers come in. I figure we drop you through his roof from a helicopter, there's no way he knows you're coming soon enough to escape."

Steve frowns. "You can make an accurate drop, even in the city?"

Barnes rolls his eyes, because _accuracy_ is what Steve would focus on, not the being _dropped out of a helicopter to fight a telepathic crime lord_.

Both Braddock and Ororo smirk. "Yes," Ororo says. "If you can remove him, the team I have can come in and secure the premises."

Braddock turns to Steve. "So, sound good?"

"I know he can hear you coming, but can’t you attack him mentally from farther away?" Steve asks her bluntly.

Barnes huffs a breath. "You're fucking brutal on a person's confidence you know that Steve?"

Braddock smiles, but looks weary, too. "No. He's kicked my ass before. I’m not confident that I could hold out against him mentally long enough to get someone in to arrest him physically. Which is why we planned it this way."

"You thought he was dead though, so someone took him out."

"It was a whole thing with a guy who's dead now," Braddock summarizes with a wave of her hand. "So unless you've suddenly developed the ability to commune with the dead, or met any high level telepath friends you haven't told us about, it's not really relevant now."

"I’m starting to warm further to your desire for the element of surprise," Steve muses. "Take him out, leave the organization directionless."

Braddock nods. "Farouk is slavish about the loyalty he demands. If he's not giving orders, no one will act without him. It'll give us a window to get a team in, rescue the kids, cement our own control, and take everything down."

Steve leans back in his seat and scowls. Barnes knows that it's Steve's planning face. "I hate to say it, but have you spoken to Loki?" And Steve does kind of look like he's sucked on a lemon. Barnes finds himself tensing at the name; he _does not like_ that guy. "If the element of surprise is so paramount, I think his abilities could be useful."

Braddock shakes her head. "I guess you haven't been paying attention, but he's been AWOL for about a month. I think he stopped by to pick up Stark a week or two ago. There's no telling when they'll be back."

Barnes relaxes.

Steve hums distractedly. "In that case, a direct air drop would probably get me the quickest approach, you're right."

Barnes stills. "You."

Steve turns to him. "Sorry, Buck. I know I asked you to join in helping out, but-" he reaches out both hands to lay them on Barnes' right arm, the only one on the table, "If this guy can get into your head... I don't want to expose you to that. After everything." His hands squeeze, hard.

On the one hand, that's very thoughtful. On the other hand, "Fuck you. I'm going."

Steve nods but he doesn't look happy about it.

 

Jumping out of a helicopter into a busy urban center is not exactly Barnes' idea of a good time, and if he wasn't still pissed at Steve for being overprotective and _lying about things that don't make sense_ , he'd probably cut out of this mission. But the frustration and anger are enough that he's actually already in the air before he realizes _what they're even doing_ , and so it's not like it even matters. Steve hits the guy's roof with his shield like a _thunk_ of justice descending.

They do get the drop on Farouk, but it doesn't exactly go as planned.

Steve is knocking down hired muscle left and right, and Barnes is right behind him, covering his flank. He draws a bead on someone who looks more important than the standard muscle, and Ororo confirms, watching through the camera attached to Barnes' sight, "I know him. He's been with Farouk for a long time." So Barnes tags him, and they've nabbed one of Farouk's lieutenants.

Moving past the door the guy was guarding gets them into the inner room before they've even been on the ground for half of the five minutes Braddock was fairly certain she could promise them before Farouk stripped her mental protections away.

The inner room is swank and Farouk is there. He does not look happy to see them; ruining the day of guys who sell children is a bonus, as far as Barnes is concerned.

There are people running away and screaming, but Farouk just stands there looking at them and suddenly he gets this gleam in his eye and he laughs at Steve. "They sent their soldier in to do their dirty work, did they? Did they tell you what I am?"

"You hurt people." Steve is resolute as he moves forward, shield held high. "You're not going to hurt anyone else."

Farouk is still laughing, and as Steve advances toward him Farouk raises his hands and flicks his fingers. Something like an invisible whip lashes out and hits Steve in the chest. Steve blocks it with his shield, but whatever it is isn't entirely physical and Steve stumbles backward from the blow.

Barnes tenses, and he's firing his rifle even before he realizes what he's doing, taking Farouk in his meaty shoulder, sending him stumbling backwards and falling to the floor, and Barnes wants to make sure the guy is taken out for good but Steve makes a sound like he's trying to swallow a scream and that's kind of the most important thing in the world at the moment.

Barnes turns immediately to Steve, who is leaning forward and hunched over. He doesn't manage to completely choke back the scream building in his chest and it comes ripping out in a way that makes Barnes remember feeling helpless and small as he waited at the side of a sickbed, fearing things would just get worse. He's pulling Steve toward him, trying to see where he was shot, but there's no wound, no blood, just Steve convulsing in pain.

The pain passes, and Steve's just lying there, pretty much in Barnes' lap, right hand pressed to his heart, Barnes' right hand covering his. The expression on Steve's face is kind of dazed.

"Steve," Barnes says, and Steve moves in his arms, pushing himself up to his knees. He seems fine, Barnes still can't find any wound, and it's only when Steve turns to face Barnes, his breathing high and fast, his eyes wide, Barnes' own hand coming to rest on Steve's thin, boney shoulder that Barnes realizes what is wrong with this picture.

Steve is skinny, and frail, and he pushes back the cowl, his uniform suddenly huge on him. He looks up at Barnes, then looks past him suddenly. "He's getting away," Steve says, pushing himself to his feet, grabbing his shield from where it's fallen on the floor, even though the weight of it almost unbalances him to the point where he falls over again.

Barnes swears, because _fucking Steve never could_ not _finish a fight_ , and Barnes stands up and belts out the door after Farouk, who's running back up and out and across the roof as fast as a bulky dude who doesn't look like he's ever run a day in his life can run when there's a world famous- yeah, he said it- assassin on his tail, toward a helicopter that's coming in to land.

Barnes can't tell if the helicopter is Farouk's or one of their strike team's, but he supposes it doesn't really matter; if the guy can get in people's heads he can make them fly him wherever. And Farouk must sense Barnes, because he stops and turns and he's still grinning like this is a joke. He opens his mouth like he's going to say something, but Barnes shoots him right in the middle of his laughing face, because one thing people fucking with your brain teaches you is that you don't fucking give them the opportunity to get a word in. Farouk slumps over dead and Barnes shivers, quite certain that he hasn't actually taken care of the problem.

Barnes turns, ready to run back to the inner room to find Steve, but Steve followed him out and he's only a few steps away, leaning on the doorway out to the roof, having an asthma attack.

"Stevie," Barnes murmurs, and runs over and drags Steve out of the stifling, smoke-filled interior and out onto the roof where the air is at least mildly clearer, and holds him up to help ease his breathing, leaning their foreheads together, breathing deeply and calmly as Steve gasps against him. "I got you, Stevie," Barnes murmurs, "you're okay."

JARVIS says in his ear, "Sergeant, Doctor Langford was waiting with the backup crew and I have notified her of Captain Roger's condition. She is currently en route, but please notify me if you believe the situation requires more immediate attention."

For a machine, he sounds really worried, Barnes thinks. But Steve's breathing is evening out, and he's matching Barnes' calm, deep breaths. "’Sokay," Barnes murmurs to JARVIS. "He's gonna be okay."

Steve is staring up at Barnes with doubtful eyes, and, now that the threat is over and he's just gotten himself under control, Barnes can feel him working himself into another fit.

"Steve," he says firmly. "Relax."

Steve huffs a breath and coughs, but closes his eyes and focuses on his breathing. It's a few moments later before he says softly, "What did he do to me?" He moves his hands and he's tangling them in Barnes' tactical vest, pulling him closer. "Bucky?" he asks dazedly, and Barnes has the sudden horrible thought that Steve doesn't _remember_ him, thinks maybe that he's still supposed to be dead.

"I'm here," Barnes says. "I've got you." He rests his hands on Steve's shoulders. "I got that guy, he's not gonna do anything else."

Steve shakes his head. "Not supposed to be your job," he says mulishly, and Barnes is reassured by _how_ fucking stubborn Steve is.

Someone is approaching them; the helicopter is question must have been Farouk's, because it fucked off as soon as Barnes took down their boss, so the roof has been clear of other mobile bodies for a good ten minutes. Barnes looks up at the vaguely familiar shape and a good look confirms that it's Braddock.

Braddock stops and looks at them, the length of her katana dulled red instead of glinting in the sunlight. "I lost the connection," she says by way of greeting. "But Ororo confirmed you took Farouk out of play. It looks like someone kicked the anthill down there," she adds with a tired grin as she gestures to the building beneath them. "What-" And she stops when she gets a good look at Steve. "What the hell happened?"

Steve turns toward her and raises an eyebrow. "Somehow, your powerful telepath did something that reversed the super soldier serum," Steve says, and he says it blandly, like Barnes can't feel his heart beating far too fast.

Braddock frowns. "That's... that doesn't seem possible," she says, because even if she was about to claim that it was impossible the evidence is before them. "Farouk is not..." she waves her hand, "Not a scientist, not interested in tech of a power sucking nature, not smart enough to have foreseen such a specific attack."

"And yet," Steve says, voice heavy with irony, "here we are." He pushes away from Barnes to stand on his own feet.

Braddock circles around them to where Farouk's body lies on the roof. She pricks his shoulder with the tip of her katana, like she thinks he might be faking having his brains blow out the back of his head. Her feared enemy is dead at her feet, but her brows are drawn together in displeasure.

"Is there anything else to do?" Steve asks. Barnes really wants to shake him, but he's still kind of frozen between _get the bad guy_ and _what the hell just happened_.

Braddock shakes her head. "You took out Farouk. Storm’s going in after the children. Her team’s got everything else covered."

Steve nods, but he looks a little disappointed. Barnes reaches out and touches his elbow and Steve looks at him.

There is so much going through Barnes' head right now that he couldn't speak if he wanted to. Steve’s eyes are searching Barnes' face for something, but he turns away before he finds it and goes to retrieve the shield from where he dropped it when Barnes hauled him away from the door, hefting it to its usual place on his back with a grunt. It pulls at his costume, which sags, loose around a body that no longer fills it.

Doctor Langford arrives and starts fluttering over Steve. But other than an asthma inhaler she passes to him there's not a lot to be done until they can get somewhere more... stable.

Stark has a building in Cairo; Langford designates a medical emergency and herds them into a medical facility there. Barnes is tense and unhappy but he refuses to leave Steve's side. Langford is insightful enough that she finds him a spot to stand that isn't in her way and turns away from him before she does anything involving needles. There are also 100% fewer restraints than he's used to encountering in a room that smells this much like antiseptic, which is a plus.

Langford does several different scans and takes some blood samples. "I can't explain it," she says eventually. "There's no causation that I can see. As far as I can tell your cells still think they're the same as they were yesterday." She shakes her head.

Barton arrives at some point during the entire procedure. He meets Barnes' eyes from across the room and nods significantly, settling into an easy sprawl in a chair, his bow across his lap, his entire posture deceptively lazy. Barnes relaxes to see him; he trusts Barton in a way he trusts few others. Barton will help him protect Steve.

When Langford is done with them, Barton approaches. "I have wings if you want to head back to the Tower." He uses the word in a way that indicates he means their home in Casablanca and not the skyscraper they're currently occupying. He takes Steve's smallness in stride and doesn't comment at all. Barnes is certain he was briefed by Braddock before he showed, but it's just something else that he likes about Barton.

Steve frowns. "We should stay here, until we figure this out," he says obstinately. But he glances at Barnes. "I mean, I will. You don't have to stay, Buck."

Barnes narrows his eyes. He's not sure if Steve is trying to be thoughtful again, or if this is something else. He shakes his head and doesn't move.

Barton nods. "Okay." He moves to go back to his seat and sprawls. Barnes is pleased to have him close while they're in this unfamiliar, and proven dangerous, territory. But he can see that Steve is anxious and about to stop being able to hide it. He hasn't really had time to process what's happened. And Barnes has some selfish motivations as well, but he steps forward suddenly, looming over Steve now. "JARVIS," Barnes asks. "We got a room in this building?"

"Sergeant Barnes, I have set aside guest quarters on the thirty-seventh floor for yourself and Captain Rogers."

Barnes nods and starts to herd Steve toward the elevator. Steve frowns, but goes without fighting. Barton taps his phone as Barnes passes, and Barnes knows that he'll be close if they need him.

 

They're up the elevator and in their temporary quarters before Steve lets on that Barnes' looming is getting to him. As they step out of the elevator, Barnes sticking close, Steve puts a hand on Barnes' chest and shoves him back. Without Steve's usual strength, of course Barnes doesn't move. Steve frowns. "I'm _fine_ , Buck. You don't have to worry." He tries to smile, but it's twisted up with the fact that no one knows what happened or what it means. He moves to step around Barnes.

As he steps away, Barnes curls his arm around Steve's slender body and pulls him back against Barnes' own. Steve fights him, and though he's learned a few tricks since the last time he was this skinny, he still makes no progress against the hard muscle Barnes has wrapped around him.

"Bucky, don't you _dare_ think," Steve starts, but Barnes lowers his head to bury his face against Steve's hair, moving down to press his lips to the slender column of Steve's neck. He traces the fingers of his left hand over the sharp curve of Steve's collarbone.

"Bucky," Steve says desperately, and his breathing is getting fast.

"Sorry," Barnes says, soothingly. "'S just, been a while." His right hand moves down, tracing the bony protrusions of Steve's hipbones. "Since you were _so_ familiar." He runs both his hands up Steve's sides and takes a deep breath as he steps back. "Sorry," he says again.

Steve is staring at him. He swallows. "Bucky." He turns back, leaning against Barnes' chest. His hands are tangled in Barnes' vest again and he presses his face against it. He barely reaches Barnes' own collarbone and Barnes brings his arms up around Steve. "You don't..." Steve starts, but doesn't seem certain of the question he wants to ask and stops there.

Barnes scowls. "I _do_ remember you," he protests, wondering if they're going to have this discussion again.

"No, it's not-" Steve sighs. " _I_ forgot," he admits. "How different... I feel like the same guy, inside. Like, the serum didn't really do anything that changed me, you know? I forgot that... that there's a difference to the way you hold me." He's looking up at Barnes with a shy smile on his face.

Barnes kisses him. There's not a lot of thought behind it. He sees that smile, and he's lost in a day that isn't today, and he doesn't remember until he touches Steve's face with his left hand and he can't figure out why it feels strange, and he suddenly snaps back _hard_ because he _remembers,_ but he's even more shocked that he _forgot_.

He jumps a good foot backward, and Steve is looking at him warily. Barnes is holding his left hand out, away from his body like it's a snake that might turn and bite him. "Sorry," Barnes grunts. "Forgot." He rubs both hands over his face. "I... see you, like that, and I forgot I wasn't me anymore, and I..."

"Hey." Steve comes to him and takes both his hands, firmly. "You're still you, Buck. I'm still me." He leans in, on his tiptoes, and presses his lips to Barnes' chin. "I do kinda like being taller than you," he says wryly.

Barnes leans down, and their lips meet. "It is something to get used to," he drawls, his hands coming up around Steve and pulling him close.

They kiss for a bit longer, then Steve is just leaning on Barnes, his head resting on Barnes' chest. That doesn't last for very long because, "Your tac vest is very uncomfortable," Steve tells him.

Barnes mock growls, "Little punk," and he scoops Steve up in his arms and carries him into the bedroom and tosses him on the bed.

Steve yelps, and glares up at Barnes. "Ya jerk," he shoots back, but Barnes is already shedding the vest, and his boots, and he's crawling up to lean over Steve and kiss him again. Steve is shucking his costume, and his bare hands are fisted in Barnes' shirt. Barnes eases off Steve's boots too, tossing them behind him, and when they're both down to skivvies he pulls a blanket around them and curls around Steve.

Steve is tracing lines on Barnes' arms where he lies curled inside of them, and he turns his face up to meet Barnes when Barnes leans in for another quick kiss. Steve smiles, but then he shivers, an odd, introspective look crossing his face. "You used to hold me like this all the time," he whispers. "I felt like it was my due when I could hold you. But I was so bad at it, Buck. I did you so wrong."

Barnes freezes. "What the hell, Steve. It's _not_ your fault." He pushes himself up until he's leaning over Steve and he reaches down and takes hold of Steve's jaw and pulls him around until they're looking at each other. "It's not your fault," he says again. "Goddamn Steve, I wish I could say it like you do, say it and make you _believe_ it, but that's not-" He swallows and leans down until his face is hidden again the bed beside Steve's head, and Steve's hands come up around his neck, covering him and sheltering him, and Steve’s kissing the side of Barnes’ neck softly. Barnes turns toward him and kisses him back. "I'm not good at saying things, not like you are. But Stevie, don't think you did me any wrong."

Steve is looking at him, his sad, hangdog eyes looking more impressive in his gaunt face. "I should have gone back," he says stubbornly.

Barnes takes a deep breath. "You didn't," he says bluntly, and Steve flinches. Barnes cups his hand against the back of Steve's head. "I should have jumped in front of that guy today, never let him get near you," he says.

"You had no idea he was going to do something like this!" Steve is half sitting up in protest, and Barnes touches his right forefinger to Steve's nose. Steve blushes. "It's not the same, Buck. I should have-" And he cuts off with a choke when Barnes tackles him back to the bed.

He pushes Steve down and growls, " _Stop_ it, Steve," a little wildly maybe, but he's not in the mood to go over this again. He kisses Steve- if his mouth is busy he can't talk.

Steve pushes up against him, his hands grabbing wildly at Barnes, pulling him down more fiercely, his hands fisted in Barnes' hair, until he works himself into a fit again, gasping for breath as his throat closes.

Barnes pulls him up, passes him the inhaler, helps him sit so there isn't pressure on his lungs. Steve leans on him wearily. After a moment, Barnes reaches up and tangles his hand in Steve's hair.

"I'm sorry," Steve says.

Barnes sighs; he's not sure what to do, other than bang his head into a wall.

Steve reaches for his hand suddenly. "Bucky," he says, voice suddenly sharp with concern. "I think-" He stops.

Barnes turns to him, and Steve has a look on his face, like he's on the edge of figuring something out. "Stevie?" he prompts softly.

Steve's hand closes on Barnes' wrist. "Buck, I think I-" he swallows. "Don't leave me alone, okay?"

Barnes frowns. "I wouldn't," he protests.

"Yeah, I know, but-" He shakes his head. "I feel like... I haven’t been on about that in ages- you know. But now I’m after that old chestnut, and I thought, maybe… he did something that changed me."

Barnes is confused all to hell. Steve is having some kind of insane mood swing going on, and handling that is not something Barnes feels capable of doing. But there is one thing he can promise. "Not leaving."

Steve relaxes, minutely, against him. But then he shivers. He shakes his head and pulls away to say angrily, "I hate Zola. I hate that he hurt you."

Barnes blinks. Zealous is certainly a word he would use to describe Steve, but Steve has _never_ expressed hatred of anyone in front of Barnes before; Barnes is going from annoyed-worried to worried-worried. "JARVIS."

"Yes, Sergeant?"

"Doctor Langford have anything yet?"

"No conclusions as of yet, Sergeant."

Steve glowers at him. "I'm fine," he says, and pulls away. "Leave me alone. I'm gonna take a shower." And he gets up from the bed where they're both sitting and stalks into the bathroom.

It's not like both of them couldn't use a wash, but this sudden, dark emotion that's shivering under Steve's skin worries Barnes. He gets up and follows Steve into the bathroom.

Steve is standing in the cool, tiled room with blood running down his arm, shivering as if he's cold. He meets Barnes' eyes in the mirror. He looks worried.

Barnes rushes to him. "Steve, what the hell." He grabs Steve's arm and pulls it gently toward him. It looks like Steve tried to punch the tile; his knuckles are scraped all to hell.

Barnes leads Steve to the sink and washes his hand clean of blood. They go back out to the main room and find some sweat pants in the closet. Barnes pulls Steve into a chair with him. Steve’s expression has gone from apologetic to pugnacious several times over the last few moments, though he’s been quiet. And now, Steve leans against him at first, but he pulls back after a moment and looks like he’s about to be quarrelsome. Barnes comes to a decision. "JARVIS, tell Langford we're coming back down. I think Steve is getting worse."

"Of course, Sergeant."

Steve scowls. "I'm _fine_ , I don't need some idiot doctor poking at me. They never know what they're doing anyway." He pulls further away, and Barnes is growing more concerned.

"You don't come willingly, I'll take you unwilling," Barnes decides. Steve snarls at him, and, without further ado Barnes wraps his left arm around Steve, picks him up, and hauls him to the elevator.

Steve's spitting and snarling like a cat, but the arm doesn't give a shit, and there's nothing he can do anyway that will prevent Barnes from getting him the care he needs. In the elevator, Steve subsides. He's breathing heavily, more than one ragged exhale developing into a full blown cough.

"Bucky?" he asks at one point. HIs voice is thin, and he almost sounds scared.

 _That_ scares Barnes more than anything that's happened today. "I've got you, Stevie."

 

Doctor Langford meets them at the door to the medical facility and ushers them into a back room that isn't the same place they were earlier. The room is not particularly medical, everything in shades of pale brown that Barnes guesses are supposed to be soothing but which just make him suspicious. The furniture looks comfortable, but Barnes relaxes only when he sees Braddock seated in one of the chairs. She doesn't look pleased at the moment, but he trusts her to have his back.

"Captain Rogers." There's a table to one side of the room and Doctor Langford sits behind it, rearranging papers uncomfortably. "Ms Braddock has... enlightened me as to some of what we could be dealing with, and having compared my medical results with her theories I believe we have a conclusion."

She looks at Barnes, and he realizes that he's still standing near the door, his arms full of a quivering ball of rage that is Steve Rogers. Steve had gotten snippy in the elevator, so Barnes had slapped his free hand over his mouth, silencing him. Barnes makes sure the door is shut behind them and releases Steve.

Steve immediately whirls around toward Barnes with an expression of animosity on his face. He opens his mouth to speak, and Barnes braces himself.

But Steve doesn't speak- he freezes in motion, and Braddock makes a pained sound. Barnes immediately turns to face her, his own expression darkening. "Stop it," he demands. "If you hurt him-"

Her hands are curled tightly around the arms of the chair she’s seated in, her back ramrod straight as she stares fixedly at Steve. "Barnes, it's not _him_ ," she says quickly and flatly. "I'll let him go, but you have to know- what he's saying, what he's doing, it's _not him._ "

Barnes nods. He does know that, or at least he'd suspected there was something going on even if he wasn't sure how deep it went.

She releases Steve, but whatever he was about to say gets trapped in a wheeze as he starts to have another asthma attack. Barnes takes hold of his shoulders, holding him upright, and Doctor Langford administers an injection- "It will help his airways open," she murmurs to Barnes before she even approaches, and he nods.

And when he can breathe again, the rage in Steve's face is direct all toward himself. "This useless body," he snarls. "The spell was supposed to take him to when it would be easier to _control_ his power, but everyone has their secrets and _this_ had to be his." He fights Barnes' hold on him. " _Useless_. I couldn't have hit _you_ with the spell, could I?" He's reaching for Barnes, his fingers grasping. "I could have _used_ you." He twists free of Barnes' grasp, but there isn't anywhere for him to go and he backs up against the wall and glares at all of them.

Barnes feels his world twisting, and he is conscious of his left arm whirring. "Braddock," he demands, because he doesn't have the words to say _what the hell is wrong what did he do to Steve can you fix this_.

He hears her sigh but he can't take his eyes from Steve. "Farouk was the host for a telepathic entity from another plane of existence," she says. Barnes guesses she is trying to sum everything up for him without a lot of talking, but he has no idea what those words mean. "It had just enough warning that it was prepared. When we were going to remove Farouk, it chose Steve as its next host."

Okay, _that_ makes a bit more sense. "Get it out," he says.

Braddock sighs. "It's not that easy."

Barnes' fists clench and his arm is whirring again.

"Okay, I'm working on it," Braddock soothes him. "Barnes, look at me."

He does, tearing his eyes away from Steve, and Braddock is looking at him like she knows he isn't going to like this. "The entity’s powers are lessened, because Steve himself isn’t a telepath. But it has its hooks in. Steve’s fighting it, but I'm going to need to go in and back him up on the astral plane. To make sure I don't do Steve any damage, I'd like you to come with me."

Well, she's right- he doesn't like this. He's about to say _no_ , when Steve sags against the wall he's leaning on, blinks, and looks at Barnes. "Bucky." He shudders. "Bucky, he's doing something to me." he reaches for Barnes' hand. "Bucky, don't let him-" and in a wheezing cough Steve is gone again. He hisses in anger, but before he can work himself up too much, Braddock glares at him and he slumps back against the wall, Barnes moving to catch him as he tries to slip all the way to the floor.

But it wasn't like Steve needed to finish that sentence. Barnes knows Steve well enough to finish it for him: _Don't let him use what's mine to hurt people. Don't let him hurt you._ Because Steve never could goddamn think about himself.

Barnes looks at Braddock. "I can't," he says helplessly. "I want to kick him in the ass. I won't be a help to you."

She smiles at him, a genuine expression at odds with the situation. "James Buchanan Barnes. No one loves him as much as you do. If you think he needs a swift kick in the pants, then that's what he needs." She comes over and touches his shoulder. "He won't be able to see into your mind in return," she assures him. "There is nothing you can do to hurt him. If I believed you could hurt him, I wouldn't ask you to come." Her hand tightens. "You keep telling me that if _I_ hurt him you'll kill me. Well, you're the only one who can make sure I don't. The entity is insidious. It's inside him, and I don’t know him well enough to separate them where they're intertwined."

So Barnes does the only thing he can do. He nods.

 

They lay Steve on a long, backless chaise in the room. Langford twitches like she wants to suggest tying him down in case the entity wakes up, but she knows Barnes and she doesn't say anything. Someone must have called Barton, because he shows up; Barnes would put money on it being Langford.

Barton walks in and takes in the scene at a glance. "No one's getting out of this room until someone proves to me this Farouk guy's evil, brain-sucking mind is dead," he says, leaning on the door he locked behind him. Braddock nods and relaxes slightly.

Huh. Maybe Braddock was the one who called Barton.

Barnes and Braddock sit on either side of Steve.

 

Barnes closes his eyes, and he feels the brush of mental fingers against his temple that is Braddock asking him to let her in. He sighs and does so.

It's different than their previous mental communications. He feels more... detached from his body than usual, and there is an entire landscape surrounding them.

Braddock is standing facing him. The sun is warm on his face and they are standing in a valley, surrounded on all sides by mountains. It looks familiar.

"You close this location," Braddock confirms. "And we aren't really conversing mentally, like we usually do. This is an entire plane that is separate from the physical." She seems to be debating how to explain it, but ends up repeating, "It's separated from the physical world. Most physical actions or objects here aren't real- they are your brain attempting to place thoughts in a physical context. Like a dream."

Barnes nods, but scowls. He has to say, "You said I picked this location, but you said we wouldn't be in my mind, that Steve wouldn't have to see that."

Braddock nods. "He won't have to see it," she assures him. "But, you can still bring it here if you think about it too much."

"Thanks for telling me _that_ sooner."

She smiles, but it's trepidatious. "You're not alone," she says. "I've been in a lot of people's minds; doesn't mean I want them in mine." She shifts uncomfortably. "I'm going to pull Steve in now."

Nothing really changes- Barnes was half expecting Steve to just appear in front of them. But then Barnes turns around and there's a building behind them.

Barnes must make some sign that it's familiar because Braddock asks him, "You know what it is?"

"It's the Hydra base where I saw Steve for the first time. You know, after." He frowns. He'd drawn the mountain valley- it's a place they bivouacked in Switzerland during that time, actually the last place they’d stayed before Hydra had stolen his mind away again with the scepter. He'd remembered it fondly because it was beautiful; Steve had been beautiful there. He has to assume that Steve placed the Hydra base in the valley for a purpose.

"The building means he's hiding," Braddock says. "I may not know Steve as well as you, but I know mental constructs, and he's hiding from the entity- that's why he didn't appear out here or meet us."

Barnes nods. He does know Steve, well enough to guess why _this_ building- for Steve, it's a place of hope and reunion. For Barnes… well, his emotions are a bit more complicated.

Braddock moves to step forward, to enter the building, but Barnes reaches out and halts her. She stops and waits; she is not impatient and doesn't try to pressure him at all. In fact, she says, "Time isn't important here. Take as long as you need."

He nods. And he reaches out and erases the mountains. He changes the setting to nighttime, and he places them looking out over the East River. Instead of a barrier of mountains, fog shrouds everything.

The fog sucks up Steve's Hydra base until it vanishes. Barnes grins, and he turns around, looking for Steve. Steve will have changed his hiding place, in response to Barnes' change in setting.

And he turns around and the building there is the dance hall, from that July night that Steve lied about the two of them dancing. Barnes frowns.

"You know, you're a natural at this," Braddock says beside him. She's stepped closer than she was in the valley; he assumes that the fog makes her nervous. "If fog doesn't make you nervous you haven't spent enough time in London," she responds, and he realizes that she's reading his unspoken thoughts. "Sorry," she adds. "It's harder to censor myself on the astral plane."

Barnes shakes his head. It doesn't matter; they're here to find Steve.

"Right," she says. "So, he's responding to your changes and inviting you to come find him." Barnes looks at her and she grins tightly. "I may not be up on Hydra bases, but even I know what a dance hall looks like. Looks like you're not the only one who's been thinking about that night lately."

Barnes nods. Steve is the strategist, but Barnes isn't exactly a slouch, because the first location had been where Steve had found _him_ , but this is a place where _he_ found _Steve_. Barnes takes a deep breath and walks through the doors and inside.

 

Inside people are dancing. Barnes isn't sure why that unnerves him. Maybe because there hadn't been any people on the street outside, other than him and Braddock? Maybe because the fog had felt like it was making this a private moment for him and Steve? The building is packed, much as it was that night. The band is loud and the flurry of moving people distracts him for a moment.

But the people aren't real, he reasons. They're just shadows. He's pretty sure. But as he tries to walk across the dance floor one of the girls stumbles into him with a giggle.

He reaches out a hand to catch her, automatically, and almost withdraws it when he realizes who it is. Shit, what was her name? "Meredith," he says.

"Hey, fella." She winks. "Wanna dance some more?" She leans into him suggestively. "Or wanna head somewhere more quiet?"

He stares at her, dumbfounded. It's just because he _knows_ this is what she looked like almost a _century_ ago, so _it can't be real_. "You're not real," he finally manages. Braddock steps up and touches his shoulder.

Meredith pouts and jerks her chin at Braddock. "I'm as real as _she_ is." She leans in, breathing in his ear, "I can make you happy."

And Barnes shudders, lifting her arms gently from around him and setting her back firmly on her own feet. "No," he tells her. "Tell me where Steve is."

She pouts again, but lets it slip into a seductive grin. "Come on, smudger. Let’s get on that dance floor, like we were doing earlier." She pulls at him, swishing her hips to the music.

But Barnes pulls his hand away. He shakes his head. This is the past, in more ways than one, because _he has everything he ever wanted please don't let_ that _have been a dream_. "I can't dance with anyone but Steve," he says. He moistens his lips, almost not daring- but he's not the same man he was the last time he was standing in this room. "I love Steve," he says. He likes the way it sounds, and he grins.

Meredith is staring at him.

But he doesn't have time to explain it to her. "You can't help me find Steve," he tells her. "Get out of my way." Because Meredith had said _earlier_ , so this must be that night, that same night Steve had remembered, so he knows where he'll find him. He pushes his way through the disgruntled dancers, making his way to the back of the hall, behind the tables in the corner. He thinks he remembers... but the spot he's pretty sure leads to the door with the broken latch where he’d managed to sneak back behind the bandstand and find Steve is gone. There’s nothing there at all. He runs his hand over the wall. "Stevie," he whispers. "I know you're here. Let me in." But the wall remains solid, the door he knows is supposed to be there is closed to him.

"Barnes," Braddock says.

She's behind him and he turns back to see. Meredith followed him through the crowd and is watching him, a dark and calculating look in her eye. "You know where he is," she says, her voice losing its playfulness.

"Farouk." Barnes tenses; has he inadvertently given the entity a clue as to where Steve is hiding? Will his presence leave Steve unable to defend himself? _You said I couldn’t hurt him_ , he calls to Braddock.

 _In Steve’s mental landscape the one with the greatest power is going to be Steve._ Braddock lets her fingers curl around Barnes' wrist. _I'll take care of Farouk-Meredith_ , she says. _Go to Steve._

He frowns. Braddock had said before that she wasn't sure she could handle Farouk. And he’d not sure how to get to Steve if the access to the rafters, and the unfinished brick wall where he’d plastered himself against Steve and forgotten the rest of the world in the throbbing of the music, isn’t there.

Braddock stops and actually rolls her eyes. _Give me strength. Barnes, I can handle him because I realized that he's just as stupid as you are. Now, stop looking for Steve in_ your _memory and remember that this is_ his _memory of that night._

Barnes stills. And gets it. Braddock nods.

And so when Braddock punches Meredith in the face, Barnes runs past them, back across the dance floor and out the front door. He whirls around and throws himself at the wall of the building, his metal arm digging in and flinging him up to the fire escape, then up far enough to get his fingers around a window ledge, and then he's at the roof.

He lands behind the marquee and looks around. It’s mostly flat, with a brick wall that comes up to his waist and he admits to himself that it does actually look familiar. Does he actually just not remember dancing with Steve? He feels like a shitty boyfriend if that's the case. Extenuating circumstances maybe, but if his brain can remember eighteen ways to kill a man with a stapler, then it sure as fuck should remember this.

Steve is a study in sharp angles, sitting on a forgotten milk can, elbows on knees, chin in hand, looking dejected as shit.

"Stevie," Barnes calls.

Steve flinches, hard, and jumps to his feet. He looks at Barnes warily. "Are you... Are you real?" he asks, and Barnes' heart hurts.

"I'm so fucking real I'm gonna do worse than kill him for doing anything to make you think I'm not. But, shit, Steve, that's a stupid question to ask. Of course I'm gonna say I'm real, or there's no point to it."

Steve relaxes, and grins. He comes closer and touches Barnes' left arm, squeezing it, affirming, "You _are_ real."

Barnes reaches up to cup Steve's chin with his right hand. He leans in and lets his lips brush over Steve's.

Steve stands on his toes, pushing up against Barnes, kissing him fully, devouring his mouth. "Bucky," he says with a shiver. "I don't know how to get rid of him." He gaze gets calculating. "I've been fighting him as best I can, but he's really strong."

Barnes lets his fingers on Steve's chin guide his face back to Barnes. "He's not as strong as you think he is," he tells Steve. "Braddock says you have the power here."

Steve looks at him doubtfully. "You haven't been the one fighting him," he says, pulling back. "He _is_ really strong."

Barnes lets his now empty fingers clench into a fist. "So, that's it? You're gonna let him win?"

"Bucky..."

"No, Steve. This is easy. You can beat him." He reaches for Steve again, taking hold of his shoulders. "You don't need anything to beat him. The skinny little shit you used to be could have eaten this punk for breakfast. Just because you look like that skinny guy again don't let that make you think he’s got some hold on you."

Steve hesitates, looking up at Barnes. "I want to believe you," he says softly, "but I can't."

Barnes feels hopelessness fill him. He leans his forehead against Steve's. "Why not, Stevie?"

Steve shudders in a deep breath.

"Say it, Steve," Barnes urges him. "Whatever it is, let it out."

"I can't," he murmurs.

Barnes closes his eyes, but there's something angry burning in him. "This isn't real, you know."

"I know, we're in a sort of mental world. That's why it looks like New York used to look."

"No. I mean this." Barnes steps away and gestures to the roof of the dance hall. "This is the roof of the building across the street from where I used to work, Steve. You put it on the dance hall, and you lied about us dancing up here."

Steve stares at him, ashen. "What? But... Bucky..."

"Let it out, Steve. Whatever reason you think he deserves to win at this."

Steve's face twists, and he says, "It's my turn, isn't it? I deserve it, for not being able to protect you."

Barnes feels his blood chill. "Steve." He steps closer. "Will you doing this fix me?"

"You don't need _fixing_ ," Steve says, and there's a bit of his real fire in the words.

"Steve." Barnes has Steve's head cradled between his arm and his cheek and he's tired of fighting this. "Steve, you can't leave me again."

And Steve's fingers tighten against his skin, Steve's face turning into Barnes' touch. "I... I won't... I can't... Bucky..."

"Fight him," Barnes urges him.

The corner of the roof explodes out, and suddenly Meredith and Braddock appear. Braddock is wielding her katana and seems to be wearing butterfly wings or something, and Meredith is hovering in the air throwing balls of electricity at Braddock.

Meredith sees them and adjusts her course, landing on the roof. "I will have him," she/it pronounces.

But Barnes decides to, finally, take some good advice. "May I have this dance?" he asks Steve, sliding his hand up to grasp Steve's slender fingers between his own.

Steve is watching Meredith with trepidation, but he turns to Barnes, seeming on the cusp of accepting his invitation. He hesitates, pulling back as if his hand is somehow magnetically charged to be repelled from Barnes'. Steve looks at Braddock.

He must say something to her telepathically, because she nods. "He has his hooks in deep," she says. "It's hard for you to _know_ what is really you and what is him, even when you think you can separate yourself from him in your own mind." She gestures to the Meredith double. "You're just going to have to go with your gut, Steve," she tells him. "It might be the wrong choice, but you won't know until you've made it."

Steve looks back at Barnes.

"I'm not going anywhere," Barnes says.

And Steve slides his hand inside of Barnes'. He leans into Barnes, his other arm snaking around Barnes' waist.

And Barnes leans into him, drawing Steve into his embrace, tucking Steve's head against his collarbone and leaning his cheek against the top of it.

There's a hole in the roof, so they can hear the band pretty well. They're swaying slowly against each other through the entire song, and as the band ends the piece, Steve looks up at Barnes. His eyes are wide and dark, and Barnes draws him into a kiss. The band starts up their next song, and it's a swinging Lindy Hop number. Steve sort of pulls away, like they've accomplished everything they meant to accomplish here so they're good to go.

But Barnes figures this is still a place in Steve's head, so he reels Steve in, and swings him back out again. Steve grins, and he laughs. And they keep dancing. They dance all night, until the sun rises over Long Island, and they sit on the edge of the roof watching the way it paints the sky a million colors.

Steve leans in and turns to Barnes. "I guess Braddock took care of that Farouk fella."

Barnes is pretty sure Braddock is still connected to this somehow, because _he's_ not a telepath and he's not sure how else they'd manage what they're doing, but instead of saying so to Steve he hums agreement and kisses his temple.

Steve kind of blushes and looks down. "Do you... Do you think that fixed it? What he did to me?" He's uncertain in a way that Barnes rarely sees him, and he pulls Steve's face to his in worry. "I'm fine, Buck," Steve says quickly. "I just..." He leans more heavily in to Barnes. "I really didn't like it. Not knowing what was me and what was something he wanted me to think; not being able to stop him, just sit there and watch."

Barnes freezes. Braddock had promised that Steve wouldn't see in to any part of his mind- but he realizes that it was Farouk that did this to him, not Barnes.

Steve reaches for him, his arms coming up around Barnes' shoulders. "I'm sorry, Bucky! Fuck, I shouldn't have said anything, I..."

Barnes covers his mouth with his hand. "Steve. It's okay.” He takes a deep breath. “I don't want you to ever feel like that again."

Steve nods against him.

"And Steve." Barnes grins. 'You really haven't noticed, have you?"

Steve looks mystified for a moment. Barnes takes Steve's hand in his own, measuring their fingers against each other, until it finally hits Steve. "Oh! I'm big again." he blushes. "Is it just in here, do you think?"

"Only one way to find out."

Steve nods. He kisses Barnes again. "Thank you, Bucky."

Barnes nods. "You know I'll always be there for you, Stevie."

Steve had been standing up, but he pauses and looks back down at Barnes. "You don't have to," he says. "I... I dragged you into all kinds of scrapes. It was always my fault."

Barnes snorts. "That's a load of crap."

"Okay, not _always_ , but mostly."

"Steve." Barnes takes Steve's hand in his again, playing the fingers between his. "Don't think I didn't ever do exactly what I wanted to do," he says. And he stands and walks off the edge of the roof.

He hears Steve suck in an aborted yell behind him before he jumps off as well, landing beside Barnes, and they’re in the mountain valley where Barnes started. "You stupid jerk." Steve tucks Barnes into a headlock, but then he glances around and realizes where they are. “This is the valley where-“ And he clams up, his face flushing dark red. Barnes only _hmms_ noncommittally and grins.

Braddock appears, glancing around them, and waving them to silence before they can even speak. "It's been a long night," she says, "and I'm ready to get the pair of you back to your real bodies."

"It wasn't _all_ night really," Barnes says to her.

Braddock slides him a sly grin. "I _may_ have accelerated time on your end to keep me from falling asleep." She turns to Steve. "You all good, Cap?'

Steve nods, and before he's even done with the gesture, before he can respond as fully as he wants to, Barnes feels himself sliding _down_ and _in_ and he blinks and he's back in his body.

Steve is lying on the chaise between where he and Braddock are sitting, and Barton is still standing by the door, but Langford is gone from the room.

Barton narrows his eyes at them. "You get the guy?"

Barnes nods.

Steve sits up with a grin that quickly fades because he’s still small. "I'm not changed back." He swings his legs off the side of the chaise, sitting facing Barnes with confusion on his face. Barnes takes Steve’s hand in his, and Steve's confusion fades into acceptance. "It doesn't matter," he says softly, and he smiles at Barnes warmly.

Barnes shakes his head, because Steve needs to _do_ things and this could make it more difficult, but he grins too, because Steve's right, and Barnes kisses him, here in the open, in front of people, without fear of reprisal, like he'd always wanted to be able to do.

There's a massive, theatrical _poof_ of smoke, and when it clears, Braddock coughing and muttering, Barnes sees that Steve is back to his normal-for-this-century self. Steve raises an eyebrow and grins at Barnes.

Barnes smells a rat, and he turns to Barton.

"Yeah, Loki and Stark showed up about twenty minutes ago." Barton nods at the door behind him. "I made Langford take them into the other room to talk about everything that’s going on." He looks at Barnes significantly for a moment; he knows that Barnes wouldn't have wanted Loki in the room, especially when he wasn't fully cognizant of his body. "Before I evicted them," Barton shrugs somewhat sheepishly, "Loki may have had time to add a personal flair to your mind trip."

Steve laughs, like he's so happy to be done with this shit that he doesn't even care.

Barnes shakes his head, but leaves it.

 

They fly back to Casablanca, and Barnes is kind of pleased that he doesn't have to drag Steve to their room and strip him naked to touch every last inch of his body and ensure that there is nothing left of the shadow that had possessed him.

He doesn't have to because Steve takes his hand firmly and drags _him_ from the hanger, into the elevator, and from there into their room. Barnes tries not to let his amusement show, but when Steve turns and wraps his arms around Barnes, burying his face in Barnes' neck, Barnes holds him back.

"Bucky," Steve breathes. "I..."

"Hush." Barnes moves to cover Steve's mouth and frowns at him. "Don't you dare apologize, or say anything, or-"

"I wasn't-" Steve starts to protest, but stops himself. "Okay, I _was_ going to apologize about confusing you with the memory of the dancing." He pouts. "But I _won't_. I'll just say, that it wasn't a lie."

Barnes stills. "Stevie, I don't-"

It's Steve's hand on his lips this time. "I remember it, but not because it happened." He blushes slightly, but his expression is earnest. "I wanted it so badly. I wanted to be the only one who got to be with you like that." He leans in to Barnes. "I was so jealous, Bucky; you can't imagine, I-"

Barnes shifts his weight and is about to protest, because he remembers the war, the women who threw themselves at Steve now that he looked like the man he'd always been underneath, and, even worse: Carter, who'd seen and loved what Barnes had seen and loved, and had also been everything he couldn't have been for Steve.

"Okay," Steve allows. "Okay, maybe you do. But, Buck… I wanted you so much I made up memories of us being together to keep me from going nuts with it, and I believed it so much I forgot that you weren’t really...” He trails off, to start again with, “Do... Do you remember, the time I had influenza, and you had to carry me to bed?"

Barnes nods. It wasn't like he'd only had to carry Steve to bed the one time, but he's pretty sure he knows the one Steve's talking about. "I was holding you against me, and I lifted your hand to check your pulse." He shakes his head. "You got dancing from that?"

Steve looks down, blushing slightly. "I was desperate."

"You're an artist," Barnes murmurs in correction as he moves in closer, slipping one hand against Steve's waist, sliding the other down Steve's arm to hold his wrist. "Turning something tiresome and shitty into something beautiful."

Steve turns toward him, his fingers turning to interlace with Barnes’, his breath catching as Barnes presses him back, leading him in a slow step. "JARVIS, music?"

JARVIS doesn't answer, but slow jazz strains start to filter into the room.

Steve sighs happily and leans his head on Barnes' shoulder.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soundtrack listing: "I Love Rock ‘n’ Roll" is written by Alan Merrill, performed by his band the Arrows, and was made famous by Joan Jett & the Blackhearts.
> 
> Notes:   
> \- There’s a line in this chapter about a stapler, which was a placeholder joke that ended up staying because I just never thought of anything better, and is a reference to this Wolverine related thing: https://i.pinimg.com/564x/79/65/66/796566117f56eadb2ebd9f9d58e2de0b.jpg  
> \- Because of the way this story is written, this is the only chapter where Barnes really has enough mental space to think about some of the awesome things about the 21st century, namely the fact that being gay isn't illegal anymore... but he's doing this while the characters are located in Morocco, a place where same-sex activities are still completely illegal. (It's a dichotomy that most perfectly reflects the fact that this chapter was added in at the last second, and is in fact the last chapter of the story to have been plotted and written.) I don't feel that this impacts Barnes & Steve too much in particular; even though he expresses interest at the idea of having the freedom to do so, I don't see Barnes as someone who is comfortable being demonstrative in the middle of the street in front of strangers. Also, they are foreigners, with acquaintances who have both money and magic backing them, so I think the government would look the other way for the most part should anything happen. _However_ , there is a chapter that certainly happened in this universe's history but that I myself don't feel capable of writing, where Barnes and Steve make a stand for gay rights in Northern Africa. And I don't see them stopping there, either.


	12. Home Is Where the Heart Is and My Heart Is at Home with You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Darcy strikes a deal with Loki intended to make Bruce confront some of his issues, and there are poorly timed corporate terrorists.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I finally saw _Spiderman Homecoming_ last weekend, which I only really mention because I was going to have an intro note saying that this chapter does involve a terrorist attack causing structural damage to a skyscraper, which might have certain associations for some readers, but it is nowhere near as intense as the... pre-climactic-confrontation bit of SH (no spoilers, just in case!), so if that was acceptable for 13-year-old kids I guess I'm good?

**Location:** Universe YOSLY, Designation: Delta  
Casablanca, Morocco  
Stark Tower  
2 years and 8 months pre-anomaly

Kate is giving her that _look_ from the video chat, and Darcy kind of walks it back. "I mean, it's not a _terrible_ idea, right?"

Kate laughs. "Darcy, let's just say that I'm glad I'm on a different continent." She's in California currently, with Potts' West Coast Avengers, so she's pretty much as on the other side of the world as a person can get.

Darcy glares at her. "It's going to be _fine_."

Kate laughs again. "Famous last words," she says, her attention shifting as she glares pointedly at someone Darcy can’t see. "I've gotta go, Remy's getting too cocky for his own good and I need to kick him in the face."

Darcy snorts, like Kate has any room to chastise _her_ about plans that pretty much are guaranteed to explode. "Good luck with that."

 

Loki looks her up and down, which, to be fair, most men do, but Darcy isn't fair and Loki isn't most men. "Well?" she demands.

"I'm quite certain I misheard you," he says. "Could you repeat the question?"

"You heard me right the first time," she growls, folding her arms across her chest and death-glaring him. "This is the only couple days over the next few months that we'll both be in town with nothing scheduled. So, can I?"

He smirks. "Perhaps I did correctly hear your inquiry, but I am still somewhat dumbfounded as to _why_ you could want such a thing." He narrows his eyes and a decent imitation of a "mother bear" protective-glare pierces Darcy's death-glare with a silent pop. "I will know the reason before I acquiesce."

She sighs. "It's Bruce. He knows I don't really want kids, so he's talked himself into not wanting kids even though I know he totally _does_ , but every time I try to talk about it he's all 'it's too dangerous,' and 'what if I hurt them.' I just wanted to borrow a child for a few days, to prove to him that it's not the huge deal he thinks it is." She frowns thoughtfully. "It doesn't hurt if it's, you know, a slightly _less_ than usually breakable kid."

Loki covers his face with a hand. "You want to borrow my _brother_ for the express purpose of testing the Hulk's patience? When you have confessed already that you do not care for children?"

"Hey, I didn't say that! I just said Bruce knows the last time we talked about it, which was when we first got together so that was _years_ ago, I said I wasn't really interested in _having_ any kids." She angrily puffs her overgrown bangs out of her face. "He won't let me bring it up again. He keeps side-cutting me and ending the conversation with things like 'Darcy, I don't think that's a good idea.'"

Her impression of Bruce's dour voice is enough to bring a grin to Loki's face. "You know I'm going to say yes. You knew the moment you asked."

She grins in return. "The shit you and Tony get up to? You'd set the city on fire if you thought you could get away with it, Nero."

Loki presses a hand to his chest. "No one can prove that I had anything to do with that."

Darcy rolls her eyes. "Mhmm. So?"

Loki regards her thoughtfully. "I will fetch him from Asgard tomorrow. I do warn you, Doctor Darcy Lewis-Banner, if any harm should befall Thor, I will not be amused."

Darcy smiles softly because even the god of mischief can't help being a mama bear. "It'll work out _fine_ , I promise."

 

_Famous last words is right_ , Darcy thinks as she looks out over the destruction. But, seriously, how was she supposed to know that AIM was going to try to storm Stark Tower in a straight up _Die Hard_ rip-off?? Maybe they think the Infinity Stones are stored here- which even _she_ knows they _aren't_ , so where was this supposedly super smart group getting _their_ information?- but whatever the case, there is broken glass all over the floor, JARVIS won't answer her, and she has no idea where Bruce is.

"It's going to be alright," she says firmly to the sixteen-month-old child she is clutching against her side.

Thor blinks back at her solemnly. "Daath," he replies.

"Okay," she settles him against her hip as she slips into the next room. "I'm going to assume you're trying for my name, and not some 'today is a good day to die' bullshit." She peers into the hallway but catches sight of some Kevlar clad, gun-toting figures, and ducks back the way she came. There is a stairwell around here somewhere, she just knows it.

"Da," Thor says, pointing at a door mostly hidden behind the crosswise of a fallen light fixture and what looks like the remains of a large potted plant.

"Oh, thanks." Darcy moves over to it and slips into the stairwell.

Her breathing echoes loudly in the stairwell, flickering beneath the emergency lighting like the echo of something else following her but she doesn't care. Her sock-clad feet try to slip out from under her as she flings herself down the stairs two at a time, but she keeps her free hand on the bannister and manages to not kill either of them.

She's made it down ten floors when she realizes the roaring in her ears isn't just in her ears.

"I mean, like, it's something I'm hearing, not just, you know, blood vessels and stuff," she tells Thor brokenly as she catches her breath. Her glasses are fogged from her rush.

Thor fists his hands more tightly in her shirt. "Daa," he murmurs warningly.

She hears the click of the gun in the next second, and she's already throwing herself at the door in front of her, bursting out into the main floor, running as fast as she can. She hears the sound of bullets behind her, ripping into the place she'd been standing a few moments ago. The flood of people who are on the floor and who were trying to make it to the stairwell to _get out_ \- okay there's, like, maybe eight people, but they are pressing against her so desperately they _feel_ like a flood- upon hearing the gunshots decide that maybe they don't actually want to get into that particular stairwell as much as they thought they did and stand huddled where they are. _Caught between Scylla and Charybdis_ , Darcy thinks. She's been brushing up on her mythology with all the deities running around these past few years, and she hopes she makes it through this like Odysseus did, because of course she's the only crazy person in the building running _toward_ the sound of roaring and smashing. That's just the kind of crazy person she is.

Darcy feels the building shudder as something slams into the wall beside her and she pauses in her headlong running. Thor is giggling and laughing like it's his birthday, and she decides that if- _when_ \- they make it out of this she is going to buy him a giant cake and help him smear it all over his face. She can hear someone, a very large someone, breathing heavily. He is listening to Thor, and she adds her voice, "Thor, you're not very good at being quiet. We're trying to hide from terrorists here." She steps around the wall and stops.

Apparently what had just slammed into the wall was another section of the wall. Beyond that, there is just open air, and she understands why she can feel the building shaking, the wind rippling up the side of the skyscraper to reach inside and pull at her insistently. The floor is littered with broken bits of wall and ceiling and other things she doesn't want to think about, and standing in the middle of it all, watching her, is Hulk.

 

 

Darcy insanely thinks back to how this morning started. She got up early to collect Thor, and the pair of them were in the kitchen eating breakfast- specifically, Darcy was trying to feed Thor cereal which he kept throwing back at her so that it stuck to her glasses, like it was the most hilarious game _ever_ \- when Bruce walked in. He took in the scene at a glance and did that thing he does, where he gets all stiff and pulls in on himself- and he hadn't done that in _ages_ and Darcy had hated herself a tiny bit to have brought it back- and he just looked at her. It's a look of bewilderment- and a touch of betrayal, she can't lie- to have put him in this situation when they had talked about it and she _knew_ what was going to happen.

Bruce was so eloquent in a glance that she's the one who broke the silence first. "We didn't talk about it," she reminded him, "because every time I bring it up you cut me off at the knees. Bruce, it's going to be _fine_."

As if to punctuate her words, Thor threw his latest bit of cereal at Bruce and cackled madly.

Bruce can't help but smile at the kid, and he relaxed, and Darcy started to breathe again because she _hates_ stiff-pulled-in-Bruce. "I thought you didn't like kids," he said to her.

Darcy rolled her eyes. "I never said that, when did I ever give anyone that impression?" And maybe she's a little too vehement, because this was the second time in twenty-four hours that someone had accused her of being a child-hater, but it's okay because Bruce came to her and rested his hands on her shoulders and he kissed her hair as he pulled her against him, and she could live with that.

"I borrowed Thor for the weekend." She couldn't think of an excuse that didn't sound worse than the truth so she just said it. "You're not going to hurt anybody, and you won't let me talk about it, so I thought we could just try it out, see what it's like, and maybe I don't want to _have_ kids, but you shouldn't use me as an excuse to distance yourself because, Bruce Banner, I know you love kids."

He blinked as he absorbed, but he works with Tony _fucking_ Stark so- between the two of them?- he had better be used to parsing an incessant flow of words by now. "Okay," he said, and his fingers squeezed her shoulders gently. "Let's try it out."

She smiled and they both ended up with more cereal in their hair because they spent a few minutes kissing while Thor was just having a _blast_. Darcy thought she should ask Frigga if throwing cereal was some sort of Junior Olympics sport on Asgard, because if it wasn't they should _totally_ look into that.

They took Thor to the park- it's actually a huge garden on the roof- and to the lab, and Bruce was so _fucking_ sweet with him that Darcy thought she might just spontaneously produce a child out of wanting to keep seeing that soft smile on Bruce's face and hearing his easy, warm laughter. Thor talked incessantly, strings of sounds that weren't, quite, words and didn't appear to relate to anything they were seeing or doing; he does recognize familiar objects, and refers to Bruce and Darcy as "Booth" and "Daath." Tony joined them for a bit; honestly the both of them were just adorable with the kid, and Darcy was certainly _not_ recording them for potential future blackmail material. There's a point where Tony got called away and Bruce and Darcy took Thor back down to their apartment. Thor's asleep, it's not even halfway through the first afternoon and everything was awesome, and Darcy will admit there was a bit of smugness in her lips when she kissed Bruce goodbye as he went back to check something in the lab.

Darcy was sitting in the chair just outside of the room where Thor was sleeping, flipping idly through her calendar of upcoming events on her Starkpad, when the alarm sounded. She got just enough from JARVIS- masked intruders, AIM insignia seen, armed, destination and purpose unknown- before JARVIS kind of choked and cuts out and all she could hear was a ringing in her ears. She knew enough to know that a large explosion had gone off close by, and that she needed to get _down_ , down from the tower. At first it's because she was aware all the Avengers stuff is near the top of the building, but as she gathered a startled and still sleepy Thor against her and ran for the elevator, she realized also that the combination of gravity and damaging of structural integrity would cause the building to start falling apart. With that in mind, it wasn’t a surprise when the elevator didn't respond to her call. She took the private stairs down as far as they'd go, made her way across that floor- she thought she saw a sign that said 87- and barreled down the stairwell another dozen odd floors, and here she was, out of breath, practically barefoot, clinging to the child on her hip, and face to face with Hulk.

 

Darcy just waits, patiently, because she knowns he doesn't like yelling and she's not sure she knows what else to do in this situation- her brain is still caught between _get down_ and _protect Thor_ and she'd filtered _find Bruce_ out of her immediate list.  Hulk breathes out a deep sigh. "Darcy," he says with a rumble under it, like maybe he thought she was dead.

She smiles. "Yeah, it's me." She wants to go to him, but the floor here is the worst mess she's seen yet today. "Um," she starts, but he reaches out with one hand and scoops her up.

She curls around Thor, who is laughing like some sort of hyena-banshee hybrid and yelling "Booth, Booth!"- and she tries to remember that, because she knows Bruce will want to hear that Thor can _recognize_ him, and his Hulk memories are still spotty sometimes- and Hulk grunts at Thor like he's not sure what to do with this small, loud thing. But Hulk just holds them close and leans out of the building, and suddenly they are weightless, falling, and Darcy's heart is in her throat, because she knows they're still more than fifty floors up, and she can't even- _can_ she _even_?- think about what kind of impact that's going to generate.

But while her brain is busy freaking out, Hulk slams into some sort of aircraft. He roars in anger and defiance, and they are swinging through the air again and they land on something else- Darcy isn't really sure what, her eyes are screwed shut, and her face is pressed tightly against Thor's head- and Hulk says, "Darcy."

"Thank the goddess," another voice says, and it takes Darcy a moment to recognize it. Hulk is lowering his hand, his fingers opening from where they were cupped around her, and Darcy raises her head far enough to see Ororo. "Are you injured, child?" Ororo asks Darcy, and she strokes Thor's hair.

"I'm fine," Darcy says, "We're fine." She smiles at Hulk, and he grunts and steps back, dropping off the side of what is apparently a building that Ororo has a quinjet parked on top of, and he returns to the battle. She doesn't even register that she has cuts all over her and that Ororo is examining them- while holding a surprisingly two-sided conversation with Thor- because she is watching him go, and her brain is finally catching up to the fact that she's alive, he's alive, and Loki probably isn't going to have to exact vengeance upon her. "I mean, it's not over yet, but, I think we're gonna make it."

"Did you say something, child?"

Darcy blinks and looks back at where Ororo is slapping a bandage on the worst of Darcy's cuts. "No," she denies, but then she does say something, "Is Thor okay?"

Ororo smiles. "He hasn't a scratch on him. He would be fair disappointed, of old."

Darcy leans back against the side of the quinjet and takes a deep breath. Thor takes her hand and starts explaining something to her in that odd collection of sounds that is the language of a baby of two realms- or maybe he's telling her a story about unicorns for all she really knows. "I'm just glad Loki isn't going to kill me," Darcy says. "This was my idea."

Ororo doesn't really know what's going on with that, but she- very wisely, Darcy thinks- leaves it and moves on to her other charges. There is a gaggle of mutant children whom Ororo is shepherding into the quinjet with the obvious intention of leaving the city, or at least the prefecture, and Darcy wonders if that was why Hulk brought her here, because of Thor. Even as she watches, one of the kids comes and sits by her side. He's slightly older than Thor and he looks a bit shell-shocked. Thor rests a hand on the other boy's arm and pulls him into a hug. Thor starts to tell _him_ about the unicorns, which doesn't seem relevant at the moment, but Thor's voice is deeply reassuring and confident and Darcy supposes that's all that really matters even if his words are just nonsense.

"Everything is going to be alright," Darcy says, and she gathers both kids against her and falls asleep with them tucked under her chin, and that's how she is when Bruce finds her.

 

The aircraft is humming underneath her, and Darcy wakes as someone pulls a blanket closer over her. She blinks up at Bruce.

He's smiling down at her fondly. "I'm sorry," he says, "I didn't see. This was a test for you. Not me."

She blinks again because she's not sure that makes sense. Her arms are really heavy and she looks down to find Thor nestled against her, his head on her shoulder and his cheek pillowed comfortably, for him, on the swell of her breast. In her other arm is the mutant kid whose name she remembers is Sammy. He's newer than the other kids; his mother surrendered him to Storm because she couldn't protect him from his abusive father and she thought Africa might just be far enough away to save the kid. Sammy is asleep, though he doesn't seem as comfortable; his webbed hands are clutching her hair and the flat, amphibious planes of his face are pressed into her shoulder. She begins unconsciously stroking her fingers over his head, through the fins he has instead of hair. "Yeah, I guess so," she answers Bruce.

The look he gives her is so full of love she can't respond at first. But she kicks her foot out until she's touching him with it. He takes her ankle in his hands and massages it. She closes her eyes and savors the tired achiness of her body and the feel of Bruce's hands on her.

"So, we find out what happened?" She frowns down at Thor. "And where's Loki?"

"AIM was after Tony's tech. Pretty standard villainous organization moves."

Darcy snorts. "Standard jealous dick moves," she murmurs.

Thor stirs against her and Bruce tries to glare at her reprovingly, but it's not working. "Darcy, no swearing in front of the children."

Her answering grin splits her face, but she's too tired and achy to laugh. And he still hasn't answered her other question.

Bruce takes her other foot in his hands. "Everyone's fine. Loki's doing a last sweep of the building to make sure we got them all. Tony and Natasha are smoothing things over with the officials." He sobers. "There has been quite a bit of property damage to surrounding buildings, mostly from, um, Hulk throwing things. So far, though there have been a lot of injuries reported, some quite severe, there have been only five deaths, all from the initial explosion and not counting the terrorists."

Darcy nods. At this point she kind of wishes her arms weren't full so that she could wrap them around Bruce. She kicks him and glares a bit, but the words she says are, "I love you."

His expression clears and he smiles. He doesn't even have to say anything, because even _years_ later making him smile is the highlight of her day, but he does say, "I love you too, Darcy."

She grins back at him. "Where are we, anyway? Ororo was taking the kids away from the building."

"She's moving them to Wakanda, temporarily. She just brought up to Tony earlier today that she was thinking about setting up separate facilities for the school. T'Challa's not huge about doing that in Wakanda, and, surprisingly, Ororo agrees that Morocco would probably be a better location. Obviously she was hoping to make a more gradual transition when this mess happened."

Darcy nods. "Are we allowed to hitch a ride?" The possibility of getting to see Wakanda is exciting, plus it'll give her bragging points with the PoliSci crowd at her next reunion, but she also kind of just really wants to sleep in her own bed.

She barely finishes the sentence when Loki appears in a soft ripple of light. He looks over them, Thor still sleeping against Darcy's side, his hand fisted in her shirt. Loki smiles. "Doctor Darcy Lewis-Banner, you are a woman of your word."

"So I take it you're _not_ going to exact vengeance?" She gives him a thumbs up, as much as she can without moving her arms. "I'm so down with that." Bruce is glowering, and she supposes she didn't tell him that Loki was going to be rather pissed if she misplaced his brother. Not that she was planning on doing so.

Loki laughs and rocks back on his heels as he crouches between them in the narrow space of the quinjet. He reaches out to Thor, his hand running through the child's hair, and something eases in his face- something Darcy is pretty sure he isn't even conscious of, and she's not going to be the idiot who points it out. "I would send him with Storm and the others, and so your watch is ended, Doctor Lewis-Banner. I will take you both back to the city. Unless you wish to remain?" He glances between Darcy and Bruce.

And Darcy looks at Bruce, but he's looking at her and smiling softly and she knows whatever she decides he's going with her. "We'll go with the kids for now," she says. Her arms tighten around Thor and Sammy. "Just in case." As if Storm- Mjolnir in her hand and Black Panther at her side- really needs help from her and Bruce. But something thrills in Darcy, in the small heartbeats that flutter in the bodies on either side of her, and she can't leave them just yet. These children need protecting, and that's something she can help with.

Loki nods at her. She has the odd feeling she's impressed him again. He leans back against the wall of the quinjet and watches Thor sleeping for several moments. But as they cross into Wakanda, Loki vanishes and Darcy knows he's gone back to Tony in Morocco.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Credit: "Home Is Where the Heart Is" is written and performed by Lynard Skynard.
> 
> Note: Darcy referencing _The Odyssey_ by using the phrase "caught between Scylla and Charybdis" (the origin of the popular saying "between a rock and a hard place") is a nod to the fact that my own mythological education is entirely Mediterranean.


	13. A Man with Hands as Cold as Ice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A pair of alternate and cut scenes in which Loki is cold, Tony invents things, and there is sex.

 

_This story went through a lot of revisions before it became the version that you have read, the most major being the exact nature of Frost Giant physiology._

_There are two scenes in this chapter:_

_1) from "There's Nothing You Can Throw at Me That I Haven't Already Heard," the original confrontation between Loki and Thor where Tony learns Loki's dark secret (this scene is mostly unchanged except for the last bit, but I included it in its entirely to set up the later scene)_

_2) an intimate scene, titled: Loki Gets What Was Promised That First Night. Which, if you don't remember, Tony said, “Someday I'm just going to spend hours spreading you open and taking you apart."_

 

* * *

 

 

1)

_(So, as you might imagine from the title of this chapter, waaay back when I first started writing this story [early 2014 or so] I had this idea that to exist in a place as cold as Jotunheim Frost Giants had to be, like, really cold. Not the same thing as the offensive tactic of the "freezing touch" move [which can't be basic biology, it has to be a conscious decision; in the movie, Thor touches the Frost Giant he fights at least 4 times, including head-butting the dude, and all of the Warriors 3 have weirdly open fingered gloves or bare shoulders and such that would have allowed them to have plenty of skin contact and yet only 2 out of 6 people get ice-gripped], but that to live in such an environment they would have a normal body temperatures measured in the negatives on the Fahrenheit scale; the kind of thing that, when touching a normal human would result in a "tongue on the flagpole" scenario, only worse.  Ultimately, I did some world-building research and read a bunch of Tumblr stuff about the MCU and the presentation of Asgard/Jotunheim therein and decided to go a different route, but here is the original.)_

 

**Location:** Universe YOSLY, Designation: Delta  
Stark Tower  
Tony's penthouse  
(5 1/2 years before the anomaly)

Loki starts hanging around more. Tony's not sure if he likes it. The sex is great, and the talking is better, and he's learning so much, but... He knows Loki has to have some kind of plan. Some reason for what he does. And it's driving Tony crazy trying to figure out what it is.

It's a couple days after Loki got back from whatever happened with Clint. Tony and Loki are sitting in his living room sharing a bottle of expensive wine and talking about physics.

"Thor has requested to join you," JARVIS announces.

Tony feels Loki's body beside him stiffen. He's about to deny the request when Loki says, "Yes."

Tony looks at him. Loki rolls his eyes. "I cannot continue to avoid him," he says, which Tony thinks is a bullshit reason, because Loki totally could do it.

"Alright JARVIS, let him up."

The elevator opens and Thor steps out. His eyes immediately go to Loki, who has not untensed since JARVIS announced Thor's request. Thor steps into the room. He circles toward where Tony and Loki are sitting, but he keeps the L- shape of the couch in between himself and Loki. Tony thinks it's because he's worried that Loki's going to attack him, which is just not fitting _at all_ with Thor's normal character, but then Tony remembers Thor's words from that night when he was about to bust down the door to Tony's bedroom: _he has chosen this sanctuary, and I will not violate that_. And suddenly Tony realizes what the hell Loki is doing hanging around him so much. He remembers Loki leaning against him and shaking with weakness, Loki amused and playful as he approaches Tony in the guise of different people to see if Tony can tell if it’s him, Loki answering all of his questions even after he warned Tony he was no tame beast to come when he was called.

"So, hey, Thor," Tony says. Everyone in the room jumps at the sound of his voice.

"Tony," Thor says. He addresses his brother, voice barely more than a whisper, "Loki. You look well."

Loki's jaw is clenched and he is not looking at Thor, but he drags his eyes from the wall to meet Thor's. "Thor," he acknowledges.

Silence reigns again. It is Thor who breaks it. "I'm sorry," he says. Loki glares at him, and Thor elaborates. "I should have been there, for you, when you found out."

Loki jumps up from the couch, thrusting Tony's hands away, and stalks to the far side of the room to look out the window at the city below. He is trembling with anger, but he breathes deeply and buries it. _Fusion_ , Tony thinks. Thor is looking at Tony oddly, as if realizing Tony is not informed of the subject of their discussion. "I'm sorry," he says again, but does not elaborate this time.

"But you will not apologize for what came before?" Loki asks, voice scathing. "For the million little actions which, piled together, drove me to that edge?"

"No. You revenged them yourself, as I'm sure you recall." Thor rubs the back of his head in slight chagrin. "And... I was... a different man. I cannot change what that man did. If there is a way I can rectify it, please tell me."

Loki is staring at him. "You speak like a king," he says grudgingly.

Thor grins, the expression easy and open. "That is high praise, from you. Thank you, Loki."

They look at each other. Tony's excited they made it through this discussion with all of his furniture and walls still intact. He's sure they'll have many discussions in the future without that happy result, but even knowing this he can't help but push.

"Found out what?" Tony asks. Loki freezes again, jaw clenched, eyes wide.

"That I am adopted," Thor says. He grins at Loki, though the expression is stilted. "Frigga told me. She is not my true mother, but an elder goddess of Midgard is." Loki looks shocked. Thor continues, "She told me when you vanished with the Tesseract and it appeared I would be stranded upon Midgard for some time. It does explain why I feel so connected to this realm."

"But you are still Odin's son," Loki says bitterly. Thor nods. "And I am not." Loki looks at Tony.

Tony feels like something is happening, something deeper than the surface. "I don't care," he says. Loki didn't know about Thor's mother, so the part earlier was about Loki. Finding out whoever his parents actually are is the event Thor was apologizing for. "I don't care whose dad did what. I'm not exactly in a position to point fingers there, anyway."

Loki takes a deep breath and closes his eyes.

Thor is watching Loki and he looks torn. It's obvious he wants to go to his brother, but he knows as well as Tony that the ground is made of lava. A wrong step means a fiery death. Loki may have noticed that Thor speaks like a king, but even Tony, who doesn't even know the guy that well, can see the patience he has learned. Tony's not going to point fingers, but if he was he would totally point them at a regal, white-haired weather goddess. Love has taught Thor a thing or two about playing with lava.

Now, Tony likes playing with lava, but he does it on his own terms. He turns to Thor. "So, your mom's an Earth goddess. Anyone I've heard of?"

Thor shoots him a look of relief. As the conversation moves from that into talk about Ororo, and from there her team, Loki drifts slowly back and sits on the couch beside Tony. He doesn't touch, but Tony's pushed enough for one day.

The conversation never does actually get comfortable, and after a while Thor moves to leave. "Thank you," he says again to Loki. Loki nods without speaking, and Thor goes.

Tony sits in silence for a moment. "Well, I'm not out any furniture. This has exciting prospects." Loki's hands are curled tightly into fists. He doesn't speak. Tony stands. "I'm for bed." He reaches to touch Loki's face, but Loki pulls away. Tony suppresses a sigh and heads to the bedroom.

"Tony," Loki calls after him. Tony turns back to him. Those eyes are fixed on him. Stars are dying, galaxies exploding.

"You know I don't care," Tony says. "It doesn't mean anything to me."

Loki smirks humorlessly. "Even if I have lied about everything, down to my very essence?"

Tony ponders. "No." Loki looks like he doesn't believe that. Tony huffs. "Look, I could have told you you and Thor aren't related. You're... you have _nothing_ in common. I thought it was, like, some sort of god thing, and since I'm working with a limited data pool I wasn't sure what sort of assumptions I could make about species commonalities." Loki looks a little stunned. "The data doesn't lie and there is literally only a small percentage of correlated readings. But," Tony continues, "if it's for sure true, then I'm going to have to recalculate all of my comparatives because I was operating under false assumptions when I presumed a biological connection."

"There is none." Loki's face is like granite. Tony wants to carve things in it. "I was raised covered in Odin's magic, but there is no biological relation between Thor and myself."

Tony gets it and it blinds him for a moment. "Are there other races in Asgard?"

"Not on Asgard."

"Another realm." Tony is thinking of the possibilities. Not only does he have two aliens living in his tower, they are from completely different _races_ in completely different _places_. The government would kill to be able to get the kind of information he has access too. Come to think of it, why hasn't SHIELD tried knocking down his door? They have to know that Loki is here, Steve or Natasha must have told them. Clint might have; Clint who was in charge of security and who hates Loki. And his sudden worry jolts him out of his wonder. "JARVIS," Tony says, "double check all security codes for the last two weeks, special monitoring for known SHIELD frequencies and common derivations. I want to know if Clint has tried to access any of his backdoors." His hand goes to his chest, but there's nothing wrong with the arc reactor. His heart is racing and his breathing is shallow.

"Tony." He feels Loki's hands on his shoulders, pulling him close. Loki's forehead touches his. "Tony, calm yourself."

Tony's fingers curl tightly in the fabric of Loki's shirt. "Why haven't they come yet?" he demands.

"Who is coming?"

Tony shakes his head, burying his face against Loki. "Everyone wants to take what I have. But they can't have you."

Loki's arms go around him. "Hush. No one can take me. I am here, with you."

"There has been no SHIELD activity directed toward your interests, sir," JARVIS reports. "I report no more than the usual mentions of Loki, by name or indirect reference. Also, none of the backdoor inputs that Mr. Barton left in place have been accessed."

Tony takes a deep breath. "Okay. I'm okay." He tries to pull free of Loki's hold, but not with very much energy and he isn't surprised when Loki refuses to release him.

Loki's gaze is sardonic and affectionate. "I wonder. Did you deliberately make this about yourself?"

"What the hell?" Tony shoves away, harder this time. "I'm worried about you, asshole. And you're accusing me of being a drama queen?" He pulls his hand free of Loki's grip and stalks to the bedroom.

Loki pursues him, pulling at his hand. "Tony," he says, but Tony pulls away again. "Don't touch me," Tony hisses.

Loki grabs his arm and pulls Tony back toward him. "Listen to me." His grip on Tony's arm is unbreakable. Tony pulls, hard, but comes up against the realization that Loki is far stronger than he is. It's not something that Loki has used against him before, and Tony is suddenly livid.

"Let go of me!" Tony pulls his other arm around behind him. "JARVIS!" he demands. And in answer, his gauntlet floats out and over his outstretched hand. He turns it around and fires the repulsor directly into Loki's chest.

The blow sends Loki stumbling back a few steps, and Tony shoots him again for good measure. "Get out!" he demands.

Loki looks up from where the repulsor blast has sent him crashing into the bar. "You will listen," he promises, and there is Tesseract fire in his eyes.

"Don't fucking count on it," Tony replies. He runs for his room and the rest of the suit.

But as he takes a step toward his room, in a ripple of blue fire, Loki is in front of him. "Tony! If you will not listen, then _look_."

Tony glares up at him, ready to yell some invectives and bring out some more repulsors, but he finds himself abruptly speechless. Loki is... changed, his skin dark blue, his eyes red as blood. There are lines etched into his skin and Tony wants to strip him naked and see how far down the lines go and the patterns they make. "What the hell," he murmurs but instead of offended, the words are filled with wonder and an urge to devour this new information. He reaches out with his bare hand to touch, but Loki steps back.

"Do not touch me," he says. The words are unnecessary; Tony can feel the cold washing off of Loki's skin and he wants to fetch his Kelvin thermometer with the extended range from the lab. "This is the skin I was born with," Loki says. "This is my deepest secret. This is the knowledge, the learning of which drove me mad. I cannot hide this from Thor, and I did not wish to ever speak of it to you. But _you_ ," Tony can't even name the emotion that it is Loki's voice. "You took what should have been the most painful revelation of my secret shame, and made it about your care for me." It's hard to read the emotion in his red eyes. Tony reaches out with his gauntleted hand and touches the tip of one finger to Loki's skin. Immediately, he can feel the temperature drop through the titanium alloy.

Loki watches him and Tony can hardly take his own gaze from those red eyes. Something about them is unsettling, but another part of him is utterly fascinated. "If you wish," Loki says, his voice low, "I will leave."

Tony's gauntleted hand turns, almost without thought, and closes around Loki's wrist. It takes Tony a minute to remember why that's something they're discussing. "No," he says and shakes his head to emphasize. "I should have listened. You were right."

Loki is holding himself very still and he finally looks away from Tony. "You would knowingly allow a Jotnar to remain in your dwelling, in your-" Loki hesitates over the last word, but he licks his lips and finishes, "In your bed."

"Oh baby." Tony reaches out with his free hand. Loki warningly flinches away from his touch and Tony pulls the hand back. "Oh my god, if I was a xenobiologist I'd be having an orgasm right now. As it is, I want to take you down to the lab and run all kinds of tests." Tony huffs a soft laugh. "That's not sexy is it? Okay, sorry. I just... You..." He's not an emotional person, but he tries to put honest words to what is surging up inside of him. "You fascinate me, and every time I think I'm starting to get you, suddenly, bam, there's another level." Loki's face is unreadable in its strangeness. "Though," Tony waves his hand in the direction of Loki's face, "could you make it go away? Because I _really_ want to touch you."

Loki turns his gaze to Tony and holds his eyes as the color of him bleeds back to the usual. Tony releases his hold on Loki's arm before his skin changes; he's not sure if he can, but he doesn't want to give him frost burn from the super cooled metal. When Loki is his usual pale self, Tony drops the gauntlet and throws his arms around Loki's neck, holding him close. He pulls away to hold Loki's face before his, their foreheads touching. Tony's expression is solemn. "I am going to invent the Kevlar condom, and your frosty ass is going to fuck me so hard." He says it like a promise.

Loki's eyes are full of laughter. "Necessity is the mother of invention," he observes wryly.

 

* * *

 

 

2)

_(So this scene is narrated by Loki, which would have made it part of the chapter "I Am a Traveler of both Time and Space" though chronologically is falls sometime during "Long as I Remember, the Rain Been Coming Down"; given the shift in emotional focus for that group of chapters I just cut it instead of trying to change it. I also ended up cutting [or, spoilers, transferring to a different version of Loki that you haven't met yet in OOOT] a lot of the discussion concerning gender issues that I kind of wanted to look at with Loki's character, but that comes out a bit more in this scene. And since this scene hasn't been edited as much as most of what's in the story my fangirl comes through a little stronger, lol.)_

 

**Location:** Universe YOSLY, Designation: Delta  
Stark Tower  
(4 years 8 months before the anomaly)

It's late. Loki stands in the bedroom looking out at the lights of the city. It is so loud in the darkness, so desperate to prove its existence. He places his fingers against the glass pane, the heartbeat of the city pulsing up through the power of the Tesseract. He can taste Phoenix's laughter in the air. He doesn't want to think tonight.

He hears the elevator doors open in the outer room and he knows that Tony has just returned from checking on Rogers and Barnes again. Tony's tired sigh echoes through the space that is theirs and Loki hears the clink of glass and crystal at the bar. He hears the soft footfalls on the carpet as Tony moves toward the bedroom. There is a pause as Tony sees him silhouetted against the window.

"Hey," Tony says, voice warm and welcoming and full of such pleased excitement to find Loki here. "Didn't think you were hanging around tonight," Tony says as he comes closer. His hand touches the small of Loki's back and Loki hears Tony's breath catch as he realizes that Loki is wearing the red dress he wore to the benefit with the senator the other night.

Loki turns around, finally. In the dim light Tony's pupils are blown wide open and fixed on Loki. "Hey there," Tony says again. His hand cups Loki's cheek and he peers into Loki's eyes as if looking for something. "You know I was joking about the dress, right?" He runs his hand down over the sheer satin. Tony's touch is desirous, as always, but he pulls his hand away after.

Loki narrows his eyes. "I am not a child." He knows what he is here for. He knows the image he presents, dark hair spilling over pale shoulders before the pale skin disappears under red satin. His body is male and the dress is tight across the width of his chest. Loki believed Tony was mature enough to know that Loki understands- requests spoken in jests that fall quick from the tongue are often close to the truth. But he is still Loki, and he will choose the setting for Tony's request. The smooth satin against the hard planes of his body is a contradiction that feeds a mismatched place within his soul tonight.

Tony nods. "Okay." And he must have found what he was looking for in Loki's eyes because his hand is back, pressing hot against Loki's thigh. He drains his glass and sets it behind him and then he's pressing all up against Loki. He tastes like Scotch and metal and fire and death. He tastes like Tony- like a demand that will not lie unspoken, and Loki moans and shivers. Tony has a knee nudged between Loki's legs, and Loki is pressed back against the glass of the window. There is nothing else to hold on to as Tony drops a trail of kisses along the edge of the dress, where it cuts across the swell of Loki's pectoral. "You taste amazing, as always, goddamn, Loki," Tony says, and he drops down slightly and he's catching Loki's nipples in his teeth through the cloth of the dress and worrying them into pert nubs.

Loki moans. He manages to pull a hand away from the window that is holding him up and bury it in Tony's hair, stroking down Tony's face. Tony looks at him, grin mischievous as he holds Loki's gaze, and he drops easily to his knees. Tony's fingers are stroking Loki's legs along the bottom hem of the dress, and Tony leans forward, nipping a line of kisses along Loki's waist and down the inside of his thigh. Tony's lips replace his fingers against the skin of Loki's thigh, and Loki's fingers tighten in Tony's hair. His breath catches in his throat as he feels Tony's hot breath on his groin, Tony's clever fingers working the bottom hem up the length of Loki's legs inch by inch. Tony kisses and strokes every inch of skin as it's revealed, and as he hikes the skirt up to Loki's groin he presses a kiss to the base of Loki's prominent erection before he takes that flesh between his lips.

Loki moans. He's surprised, again, by how easily Tony reads him, and how readily Tony challenges even the perception of what he wants. Loki enjoys changing his face and body to fool the populace- often only Tony knows it is truly Loki beside him and not another meaningless face, and if he puts his mind to it he can fool Tony as well- and he enjoys the masquerade for its own sake, to wear another skin and walk the world as someone else. It is bittersweet now, knowing that he walked all his life in a stranger's skin, but that just means that his grin tends more toward the sardonic and his eyes are full of anger at the universe. He can lose himself in the masquerade and it is easy to think that everyone else forgets, too. Thor often did, taking only what he needed of Loki, and forgetting any other talents until he had need of them. But Tony- Tony never forgets what Loki is. It shivers over Loki's skin in the words that never cease to fall from Tony's lips. He is murmuring now about celestial mechanics, but the words are spoken directly into the pale skin of Loki's groin and their meaning bypasses higher thought and hits him in the gut.

"God you are hot, like I'm talking boiling point of mercury, hydrogen fusion, what the sun's made of. You are... _necessary_ , it's the sun again, and, dammit, I would orbit around you."

Loki cups Tony's head in one hand and guides him closer. Tony takes Loki's cock between his lips eagerly, and Loki can feel the hum of the man's words vibrate up through the heart of him. Tony knows what he's about; he's well practiced, but it's more than that- he is an attentive lover, and it's because he is watching Loki so closely that he knows exactly when the build is too much too fast, and then when the climax is too desperate for him to draw out any longer. Loki throws his head back against the glass of the window, gasping quick, shallow breaths as Tony's throat tries to swallow him entirely and succeeds.

Tony pulls back and licks his lips in a satisfied manner. Loki feels his knees trembling and he wishes he had the energy to curse himself for that weakness. Tony rises up against him, kissing him, the taste of Loki on his lips as he pulls Loki against him and guides him to lie back on the bed. His fingers trace patterns on Loki's skin as he holds Loki against him and waits for Loki's pulse to quiet from its mad rush. Tony's fingers are nimble and they are already building desire again in Loki. He can feel the hard length of Tony pressed against him and he thinks that now Tony will take him, rough with the force of his desire, and give him the final push to oblivion that Loki wants so desperately tonight.

But Tony just holds him, tracing patterns on his skin. After a while he says, "I want to show you something."

Loki can't help it, he tenses. He doesn't want anything to enter into this moment. He doesn't want to think tonight.

Tony doesn't notice, or doesn't let is stop him, because he continues, "I made something for you and I think tonight is a good time to test it out. Will you come?"

Loki looks up at him. "Made something," he repeats.

"Mhmm," Tony murmurs, ducking down to taste Loki's neck.

It was a time buyer more than an inquiry anyway; Tony can be surprising tight-lipped when he wants to be. It's one of the things Loki appreciates about him, all the layers that make Tony and none of which are easily peeled away. "I will come," he says.

Tony leans away. His face just looks satisfied but there is a deep pleasure in his voice when he says, "Alright, come on." He pulls Loki up from the bed and to the elevator.

Loki hesitates. The dress is... private. It is between him and Tony, and he does not want to run into Banner in the lab- which he assumes is where Tony is taking him- or, Odin forbid, Thor. But Tony pulls at him lightly and Loki follows.

Tony presses him against the inside of the elevator, his tongue following the line of Loki's throat. "JARVIS," he murmurs. "Level 15."

"Of course, sir," JARVIS responds. "Elevator path and private lab area are empty and all entry has been restricted."

Loki leans his head back to allow Tony access and he lets his eyes roam the top of the elevator. He wonders if JARVIS watches Tony, if the creation is jealous of the way Loki takes pleasure in its master.

The elevator door opens on a floor that Loki has never seen before and he tenses again. The temperature has dropped twenty degrees from the balmy 75 in the elevator. "Tony," Loki says warningly.

Tony just pulls back and smiles at him. "Come on," he cajoles, but he doesn't pull hard and he stands still, waiting.

Loki takes a deep breath. He is... curious.

Tony steps out of the elevator; Loki allows himself to be pulled forward by the light grip of their fingers intertwined. The lighting is low, though rather than dim Loki would call it intimate; it is softer than what is usually found in Tony's workspace. Tony releases his hand and Loki stops, looking around him. There isn't much in this room: A table against the back wall where Tony is pulling something over his hands. The wall to the right of them is covered with blinking lights. To the left there is a doorway that leads further into the interior of the floor; the room beyond that doorway is also low lit, and Loki can see the outline of a low, flat surface.

Tony turns back to him and Loki's breath catches in his throat when he realizes what Tony has brought him to see. "This is your project?" Loki's lips feel dry. The air is cold in his throat.

Tony grins and there is something feral about it. "First prototype," he says. "Ready for field testing." He holds up his right hand and moves his fingers. His arms are both encased in gloves that run all the way up to his shoulders where they tie across his chest to hold them in position. The material is grey in the low light; it must be the material that Tony mentioned, was it Kelver? Loki doesn't remember and his breath is quick and shallow in his lungs. "So," Tony says. He doesn't move, just watches Loki. "Are you ready to help me test it?" He must see what Loki is trying to keep from his face because the question is gentle and not as demanding as he knows Tony can be.

Loki's chin comes up. "Yes," he says. The word is little more than a breath on his lips, no strength to it at all, but it is all _desire_ and the strength of that desire almost frightens Loki. There has only ever been one thing in his life that Loki has wanted the way he wants this human with the clever fingers and the quick tongue and the mind that cannot be limited by anything physical. And wanting that one thing was what destroyed him.

Tony grins at his answer and pulls out the rest of his get up. Loki steps closer. "I'm still working on the condom," Tony says offhandedly. "That has been surprisingly difficult, considering how easy it was to make sure I got enough dexterity in the fingers. Easy is a relative term I guess, but it is shockingly easy to blend Kevlar with different materials until you get the right combination of temperature resistance and tactile retention. I'm surprised more people haven't done this. There has to be a need, right? As you see, I've got just about everything else." There are boots that come up to his hips to match the gloves, and a shirt-like piece that wraps around Tony's torso and down over his abdomen and groin. It covers the bright light of the arc reactor, but there is only a thin piece covering the reactor when the garment settles tightly around Tony. That blue light is a comfort and Loki touches his fingers to it without realizing what he doing. He is sparking light from the reactor, the Tesseract rumbling in disquiet in his veins, and he looks up to find that Tony is watching him. "You gonna get undressed?" Tony asks with a lascivious smirk.

And that, that is something Loki never would have believed he would see, anywhere in all the Nine Realms and whatever worlds lie beyond. He turns around and pulls his hair to the side. Tony's hands feel heavy in the gloves but he catches the zipper easily and pulls it down. Loki steps out of the dress and lets it fall. He closes his eyes and allows the untruth of his skin to melt away.

When Loki breathes in now the air feels warm though he knows it hasn't changed. He is what has changed. He feels Tony's hand in the middle of his back, testing. The test must have worked because Tony makes a sound of approval and the hand slides along Loki's skin, curling over his hip. He feels Tony step closer and he steps away, turning to face Tony. "Be careful," he warns.

"Why don't you explain to me how to calculate a drag coefficient," Tony suggests. He meets Loki's eyes. "I'm fine, and I'm going to continue being fine." There is such desire in Tony's gaze that Loki has to look away. Tony's hands cup his face but don't force his eyes back. "You are amazing," Tony murmurs. "Look at you, god." His fingers are brushing hair back from Loki's eyes and Loki is so filled with disbelief that he lets the blood-red of his gaze meet Tony's brown eyes.

"You are mad," Loki breaths. "How can you..."

Tony's fingers cover his lips. "The only thing I want to hear you say is 'please, Tony, give me more.' Moans of incoherent pleasure are acceptable as well." He intertwines his fingers with Loki's again and pulls him toward the interior door.

Loki follows him, dazed. The low shape though the door is a bed and Tony pushes him down on it before crawling over him. It's too tempting to kiss Tony's lips, and Loki slips out from under him as Tony skims his heavy fingers up Loki's legs. The motion leaves him half sitting up, half sprawled over the bed. Tony follows him, his hands running up the inside of Loki's thighs, and Loki falls back with a moan. He is spread out openly on the bed and he tangles his hands in the rough-blended sheets to keep from reaching for Tony.

Tony leans down over him and blows on Loki's skin. His breath is a warm mist in the air, and it feels so _hot_ on Loki's skin that he cries out. It hurts, but he is shivering from how good it feels. "More," he says.

He can hear Tony's smile in his voice. "Now we're talking." Tony's fingers are tracing patterns on his skin; Loki cannot tell if they are the patterns his skin makes or if they are patterns of Tony's own creation, science birthed in his mind. In either case they feel like wards of protection burning into him and Loki gasps Tony's name. His breathing is shallow and fast and they've barely started. He feels raw, inexperienced, as if he's never been touched with desire.

"Hey, hey," Tony says, voice soft and soothing. He is crawling over Loki, his legs are pressing Loki's down, one hand holds Loki's tangled hands to the bed, Tony's other hand caressing Loki's face. His covered fingers are warm, but also cooler than his skin pressed to Loki's would be. They move tenderly over Loki's face, Tony murmuring words Loki cannot even hear he is so struck by the absurdity of Tony's fragile limbs trying to hold him to the bed, because it is _Loki's_ desire to not cause Tony harm and it is Tony's desire to aid him in that. It is so absurd he laughs, and he seizes Tony by his wrists and flips them over, Tony pinned flat to the bed beneath him.

He is held captive by a monster, but there is no fear on Tony's face as he gazes up into Loki's red eyes. He squirms, but does not seek escape. Instead he says, "Hey, let me have that hand back and I'll jerk you off." Loki is hard again, he can feel the throbbing weight of it, but there are more important things on his mind. He holds Tony still beneath him and leans down. The length of his hair trails over Tony as Loki presses his lips to Tony's heart. Not the shining circle of power that is the manifestation of everything that Tony is, but just to the side of that, the beating muscle that pumps the burning heat of blood through Tony's body. He feels Tony shudder, a moan of such heightened, desperate arousal falling from his lips. "Hot damn," Tony manages, his voice ragged, his words puffs of mist on the air. "Loki."

Loki holds Tony still, not letting him arch up against Loki's body, but Tony manages to wriggle enough to get one leg hooked behind Loki's and he strokes the length of it against Loki's skin, unable to move his hands. "You're ruining my experiment," Tony huffs, but he is breathless from arousal and Loki laughs.

"Oh? I thought it was going well." And he releases Tony, laying himself down beside Tony on the bed, his arm lying over Tony's abdomen. The rough sheets are almost painful against his arousal, but he lies still for the moment and looks at Tony.

"Finally," Tony growls, and before Loki can move, Tony is on him, straddling him. The heavy warmth of him is like a brand against Loki's ass, and, as Tony humps against him teasingly, Loki wishes he had gotten the condom working because he wants Tony inside of him until he burns from the heat of it.

But Tony has other ideas. Loki should have known; Tony would not have brought him here without a plan. Tony presses slicked fingers to Loki's opening. Loki shivers, pulling his leg up and out of the way, but this can't be it. If Tony can't fuck him, why bother to loosen him?

But Tony just keeps stroking his finger into Loki's ass. It's slightly thicker than usual with the glove, but nothing Loki can't handle, and he's getting impatient for more. Tony is watching him carefully, and as Loki twitches and sighs, Tony slips in the second finger.

This is a bit more promising, as Tony works in him, spreading him open. Loki's cock throbs under him, but he relaxes into the feel of Tony's fingers on his skin. Tony is a bit more focused on what he's doing than usual and his normal incessant chatter has dwindled to an occasional, "I could fuck you so hard right now. Mmmm, did you know the lines on your ass make a perfect curve like a quadratic function? I could not even make this shit up if I tried. How're we doing? Cause I'm looking for something, and I'm thinking it's down... this... way?"

And his questing fingers rub that spot, and Loki cannot stop the cry that bursts out of him. He shudders, and his hands are fisted in the sheets beneath him, and he thrusts back toward Tony, and he moans with an utter wantonness that he will be ashamed of later, " _More_ , Tony. More, please."

And Tony obliges him, though not in the way he was imagining as Tony slips in the third finger. He drizzles more lubricant over his fingers and works Loki's opening relentlessly, occasionally pressing that spot as if to remind himself where it is. Whenever he does Loki twitches like he's touched a live wire and a moan bursts from his chest almost of its own volition.

When it's too much to bear, Loki growls, "I want you to fuck me, Tony." And he is pulling his false skin over him, hiding the ice away.

"Nuh uh, none of that," Tony says, slapping his pale hands lightly. Loki growls again and Tony just grins at him. "I promise you're going to like it. I'm not done yet." And he works the fourth finger in, reaching for and finding the prostate, stimulating it until Loki is little more than a writhing mess on the bed. His cock is weeping and he is so hard he thinks he might explode. Tony's left arm under his hips holds him close, pulling him up from the bed. "I told you," Tony says, his voice a soft sing-song as he works his fingers in and out, "I told you that one day I was going to spend all night opening you up." The fingers of Tony's left hand stroke gently over the curve of Loki's ass and down his thigh. "No one else has ever done this, ever seen this skin flushed with arousal. The universe is full of idiots, you know. If it was my universe, I still wouldn't share this with anyone, they are fucking SOL, this is mine." And while he's talking he slips his entire fist inside of Loki.

Loki can't breathe and he thinks he might split open, Tony splitting him apart, right down the middle. He makes a sound that is somewhere between desperation and want, and he can _feel Tony moving his fingers, clenching his fist, by all the..._ Loki cries out again, shivering.

Tony is still talking, voice low and soothing, "Whenever you're ready I want you to push back and fuck yourself on my hand, okay?"

Loki licks his lips. "By all the Nine Realms." His voice is breathy with wonder and his pulse is racing with arousal, and he's not even sure he said those words.

He can hear the grin on Tony's face. "We're not done yet, babe. Come on, stay with me."

Loki breathes deeply, gathers himself up on his hands and knees, and pushes back. Tony's hand slides inside of him, and he cries out, almost instinctively flinching away from that invasion, but the words that slip from his lips are, " _Tony_ , more."

"Shh, it's okay. Stay with me," Tony murmurs, and he's working his hand slowly, moving it in and out, until Loki relaxes and moves with him. Loki's breathing is so ragged he can hear it tearing at the air around him. Tony's left hand slips underneath and he takes Loki's cock in his fingers and strokes it. Loki bucks against him, thrusting down against Tony's fingers and back against the firm pressure of Tony's fist. He can feel the heat of arousal pooling in his belly, and it grips his balls and he knows he is so close. And Tony pulls back, slipping his fist free of Loki's body, and Loki shudders with the empty hole that Tony has opened up within him. "Stay with me, we're almost there," Tony murmurs, and his fingers press tightly around Loki's cock as he coaxes his fist back into Loki's stretched opening. Caught between Tony's hands, Loki comes, hard, his body shaking with the release. He is screaming with it, though he can't even hear himself. All he hears is Tony's satisfied voice, "There we are, come on down babe, mmmmm, oh yeah, god, Loki, you are so amazing."

He is still shaking when Tony lays him down gently on the other side of the bed, away from the mess they've made. He is aware of Tony moving but it is as if the world has exploded into atoms and he is still trying to piece them together. All his eyes see is a warm, fractured light. The air is so heavy against his throbbing skin it feels like a blanket. The sound of his own breathing is the only thing in the universe.

Out of the nebulous universe, he feels a cloth against his skin. Tony is wiping him clean, he realizes, and he reaches his hand out to Tony.

Tony's finger close around his wrist. "Careful," he says. His voice is both warm and sated while also still buzzing with an unfulfilled desire. "I took off the other glove."

Loki blinks until his eyes can see and he finds Tony standing above him, cloth in his right hand, his left hand gripping Loki's wrist. Loki summons his pale skin and pulls it over him as he turns his arm and uses Tony's grip to pull Tony to him. "Take it off," he whispers. "We are not finished."

Tony's breath catches harshly as he looks down at Loki. He nods dumbly and drops the cloth, stripping out of his Kevlar body glove and his clothing. The air in the room is cold enough that it ripples gooseflesh all down his arms and over his chest as he straddles Loki's prone body. Tony's erection is pressed against Loki's stomach as Tony leans in and kisses him, deeply.

"In the notes for improvement," he murmurs, "I'm marking down that I can't kiss you. We need to fix that."

Loki is so flushed with heat and with power it is easy for him to call an illusion of his Jotnar skin over him, and he holds Tony close and kisses him. Tony stiffens in surprise at first, but soon he is melting into the kiss. Loki's arm behind Tony's back pulls Tony hard against him, and Tony moans into Loki's mouth as he starts to grind against him.

All through this night, Tony has paid attention to Loki and ignored his own desire, and now it breaks over him like a shattering wave. He comes, almost embarrassingly quickly and before Loki can touch a finger to his cock. Tony is lying, shuddering, on top of Loki, and he manages to push himself up far enough to look down into Loki's red eyes. He touches his fingers to Loki's face. "This isn't real," he says, even as he brushes his thumb over the swell of Loki's lower lip.

"It is an illusion," Loki agrees. He looks up at Tony, holding Tony's gaze as he touches his fingers to the spunk on his stomach, raising his finger to his lips to smear the white substance over them before his tongue darts out to lick it away. Tony shudders, the blackness of his eyes fixed on Loki's mouth. "Does it give you what you want?" Loki asks, softly.

Tony is still staring fixedly, and it takes a moment before he answers. "Yes and no." He darts his head in and steals a quick kiss. "It's not the same as the real thing, but you know I love you whatever you're wearing." He steals another kiss, then his words seem to catch up to him and he jerks and freezes. "Um," he says. His eyes are wild and trapped.

Loki thinks of the things he could do with this confession, but in the end he chooses to ignore that Tony said anything unusual. "'The real thing,'" Loki muses. "Hmm, I prefer you like this," he rolls Tony underneath him and murmurs in his ear, "naked and smelling like me."

Tony shudders, but Loki can tell it's not just the arousal in those words and he pulls Tony to a standing position and Tesseract power flares around them as he transfers them to Tony's bathroom. JARVIS starts the shower running and the both of them are sweaty and sticky as they tumble into it. Loki is still wrung dry from the intensity of Tony's "experiment," and even warm, naked Tony pressed against him elicits no arousal. But Tony isn't quite so tired and Loki is able to coax another erection out of him and he blows Tony, on his knees in the shower. Tony is vocal about his appreciation, and by the time Loki is done with him, Tony slides bonelessly down the side of the shower, his twitching fingers stroking absently in Loki's hair.

Tony pulls out huge towels for them and Loki carries him to the bed over Tony's protests. They fall asleep curled under the sheets.

In the palest light of morning, Loki stirs. Slipping out of the bed he gets dressed. Coming back to the bed he pauses by Tony's still form and tangles his left hand in Tony's hair as he leans close. "The feeling is mutual," he says, pressing his lips to the back of Tony's neck. He knows Tony is awake, from the sharp in-draw of his breath.

And with that, Loki pulls Tesseract power around him and vanishes.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soundtrack listing: "Lyin' Eyes" is written and performed by the Eagles.

**Author's Note:**

> So, I'm really excited that people like this story- it's my most popular and I can't decide if that's because it ended up being 3 times as long as the other two "backstories" or if it just has the most popular parings. I will say, even though I don't have an OTP, somehow three of my favorite pairings did end up in this one story… which might have something to do with why I felt like writing so many more chapters for them to have adventures in.  
> Thanks for reading! It is my hope you enjoyed, and please continue to enjoy the rest of the series!


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